Hidden Chambers and Unseen Monsters
by keeptheotherone
Summary: The Weasleys' trip to Egypt after CoS. No one will tell Bill anything, and Ginny isn't talking at all. And if navigating the relationships with his six siblings isn't enough, Bill has one more. But he and Amy Green are just friends, right?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: For those of you who read "More Than a Mug of Hot Chocolate," here is the novel-ish length story I promised about the Weasleys' visit to Egypt. It's about a dozen chapters plus an epilogue. I will update every Wednesday.

Kudos aren't enough credit for my beta **vancabreuniter**. I wrote this for National Novel Writing Month (yes, I know including "Chocolate" was cheating. But I didn't make 50,000 words even with those sections, so . . .), and I didn't realize until I was well into it that while I had volunteered to write a novel in a month, she certainly hadn't volunteered to edit one. But she gamely, and competently, rose to the challenge. As always, her support and encouragement have been invaluable. I also want to thank Betsy for pre-betaing, especially her feedback on my original character.

I am taking advantage of having an American character to play on some of the differences between American and British English. Being American myself, I am sure there are mistakes in the British characters (especially idioms-I haven't found a good way to research idioms), but I've worked hard to learn the differences.

Finally, I want to let fellow writers know I will be hosting a missing moments challenge in January. I'm planning to mix it up a bit by having participants choose their character or timeline but not both, and I'm hoping to include an optional bonus challenge incorporating various writing techniques. I wanted to have it posted to link, but I really wanted to start this story before those of you who are students go back to school, and I know I can't get the details together by the end of this week. So, this is just a teaser, and I will let you know when the challenge is open. It will have a late deadline; I'm thinking April.

Enough rambling. Let's get on with it.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_July 1993_

_Cairo, Egypt_

Bill Weasley looked at the clock on the wall, then compared it to his watch. Charlie must have missed his Portkey. Everyone else's Portkey wasn't due until tomorrow afternoon, but Charlie had said he would be here in time for lunch. Maybe dragon keepers routinely ate lunch at two in the afternoon, but bankers did not. Bill glanced at the wall clock again, then round the poster- covered walls.

He was standing in the offices of the Egyptian Department of Magical Transportation, where witches and wizards from other countries could Apparate, Floo, or Portkey in without attracting Muggle attention and violating the International Statute of Secrecy. His brother Charlie had taken time away from his beloved dragons and would be arriving from Romania, while Bill's parents, four other brothers, and baby sister would be coming from their home in England. Dad had won the annual _Daily Prophet _Grand Prize Galleon Draw and was spending the vast majority of it on a family vacation. Not wanting to think about why they were headed here, to see him, instead of the tropics (_The Bermuda Triangle: Where Magic and Muggle Collide_), Bill turned back to the clock. Two- oh- four. Charlie was buying lunch.

There was a flash of color in the corner, followed by a thud, and his next- youngest brother appeared. Ginger- haired and stocky, he was more freckled every time Bill saw him. Charlie chucked a sweet wrapper into the bin.

″You're late.″

″Well, hello to you too. Can't you lay off for five minutes?″

″It's after two o'clock, and I waited lunch for you!″

″Mate has scale rot.″

″What?″

″Mate has scale rot. Ever try feeding a dragon with scale rot?″

″You named a dragon 'Mate'?″

Charlie rolled his eyes. ″Nobody could decide what to call him and the nickname stuck. Anyway, I'm starving. Let's go.″

()()()()

Bill allowed Charlie to finish half his fish and chips (English pub food was hard to come by on a Romanian dragon reserve) before introducing conversation.

″Have you heard from Ginny?″

Charlie folded another chip into his mouth and shook his head. ″I still haven't forgiven Mum and Dad for not telling us.″

Their sister Ginny, the youngest of the seven Weasley siblings, had been found at the end of the school year to be suffering from the effects of writing in a cursed diary. Only eleven years old and in her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ginny had finally told their youngest brother Ron, and the diary had been destroyed. Bill and Charlie, the only siblings not still at Hogwarts, had not found out about the incident for several days, when their father's owls reached them.

″They didn't want to tell us until they knew what happened.″

Charlie snorted. ″Dad could at least have Floo- called.″

Bill had to agree with him there. Reading about his baby sister's ordeal without being able to ask any questions smacked of— well, of cowardice, which didn't sound like his dad at all.

″I Floo- called on Tuesday to tell Mum I was arriving a day early, and she wouldn't let me talk to Ginny or Ron. Said they were busy de- gnoming the garden.″

″I wrote Ginny two weeks ago and got an absolutely useless letter back.″ Bill poured more vinegar on his chips. ″She said she was fine, and the weather was sunny.″

Charlie paused with a bite of fish halfway to his mouth. ″Gin- Gin wrote about the weather?″

″Yeah. When Mum told me about the drawing, I was surprised when she said they wanted to come visit me again. They were just here at Christmas.″ Bill met his brother's eyes. ″I lived in Egypt for three years before Mum and Dad came to visit, and this makes twice in seven months. I don't think they're coming to 'provide my siblings with an enriching cultural experience.' ″

Charlie set down his fork. ″They're bringing Ginny to someone with experience in dark magic.″

Bill gave a curt nod. As a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank, he worked with hexes, curses, and dark magic on a regular basis. ″I reckon so. And maybe Ron too. What I can't figure out is why no one will talk about it. How the hell am I supposed to help her if I don't know what she was exposed to?"

″They'll be here for over a month, mate. Plenty of time to find out the details.″

Bill pushed away the remains of his lunch and sighed. ″I hope so.″

()()()()

Bill was winning his second game of chess in a row when there was the sound of a key in the lock, and a pretty brunette opened the door.

"Amy! What are you doing here?"

She held up the grocery bags in both hands. "Stocking your kitchen. I'm sorry. I thought your family was arriving tomorrow."

Bill crossed the room and took the bags out of her hands. "Most of them. This is Charlie. Charlie, this is Amy Green."

Amy flashed her brilliant smile and extended a now- free hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Bill talks about you all the time."

Charlie had stood too and was still holding Amy's hand. "The pleasure is all mine. I can see why Bill has kept you to himself."

Bill shot Charlie a warning look, but his brother wasn't paying attention— at least, not to him. Amy's smile widened.

"We're just friends," she said easily, leading the way into the kitchen. Both men followed her without prompting. "Give me those."

Bill set the groceries on the worktop, and she began unloading them. Charlie's eyes followed her as she crossed to the pantry and various cupboards, obviously familiar with the flat.

"You didn't have to do this."

"Of course I did," Amy said, stacking fruit into a bowl. "You never have food here."

"We went to the market today, didn't we, Charlie?" Bill said, hoping to distract his brother. Charlie was leaning casually against the doorframe, out of Amy's way, but he never took his eyes off her. Not that Bill blamed him. Nobody did American casual like Amy, in broken- in jeans and a scooped t- shirt.

"For chips and beer," she retorted. "Even boys need better food than that." She set eggs and milk in a cupboard and cast a cooling charm over them.

Charlie frowned in confusion, but Bill knew what she meant— crisps and beer. "Well, we can at least put them away. It's late. You should go home, go to bed."

Charlie's smile returned. Damn, why had he mentioned a bed?

"Or you could just stay here," Charlie said. "Bill has a bed."

Behind Amy's back, Bill sent Charlie the hard glare that rendered all his other brothers repentant and cooperative. For some reason, it never worked on Charlie, whose smile stretched into a smirk.

Amy Vanished the bags. "Been there, done that, have the t- shirt," she said. So that's where his favorite Gryffindor shirt went. "I'll see you guys Saturday. Tell your mom I said hi."

Bill looked for something to do, but Amy had left the kitchen neater than when she arrived.

"Friends, huh?"

"Yes," Bill said firmly. He and Amy had dated last autumn, and they both had been miserable. They were much better as friends.

"She has a key."

″So?″

″So, she obviously feels she can come and go as she pleases. Almost like she lives here.″

″She's a witch, Charlie. I got tired of resetting the wards every time she came over. You ever tried to keep a witch out?″

Charlie's brow wrinkled, as if he were trying to imagine the need for such a thing.

″That's what I thought.″ Bill opened a cupboard at random and pretended to investigate its contents.

″So how long have you two been . . . friends?″

That was a good question. He chose the easy answer. ″Since she moved here last summer. She transferred from one of the American branches out West. Her speciality is indigenous cultures.″

"Oh, I get it now. You made friends with the new kid."

Bill slammed the cupboard shut and flat out glared. ″Yes.″

″With benefits?″

″None of your business.″ Which was as good as a yes, and they both knew it. Angry for no good reason, he switched tactics. ″How is Tonks?″

Charlie pushed away from the wall, then unclenched his fists. ″What did she mean about Saturday?″

Bill twisted open another beer and walked into the sitting room. ″She volunteered to take you lot round Thebes.″

″Really?″ Unsurprisingly, Charlie ignored the in- play chessboard and sat down on the sofa. ″Did you tell her you have five brothers?″

For the first time since Amy opened the door, Bill felt a smile tug the corners of his mouth. ″Nope.″

()()()()

Bill stopped at yet another produce stand, smiled at the man behind the dates, and waited to see if this one would meet his mother's approval. Mum, Dad, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny had arrived on time this afternoon and checked into the guest cottage, but Mum wanted to buy groceries "and get it over with." Since the nearest market was the Muggle souks, Dad had come too. Bill was hoping he would have a chance to talk to him about Ginny. Finally, Mum was pointing out her selections as the farmer shook open a plastic bag.

"How is Ginny?"

Dad tore his attention away from a collection of cuckoo clocks in the stall across the way. "Ginny? She's fine. Why?"

Why?

"I got a letter from her talking about the weather. Very unlike her. She usually writes about everything under the sun, but not the weather._"_

"Yes, well, it has been dry," Dad said absently, now focused on some old oil lamps. "Do those light with matches?"

"I don't know. Dad, what else can you tell me about the diary?"

"What diary?"

Bill let his irritation creep into his voice. Dad wasn't stupid; he was stalling him on purpose. "The cursed one you said Ginny was writing in."

"Oh. Well, I don't know much about it, but it has been destroyed and Ginny's fine now."

"But what _happened_?"

"That will do for a couple of days, at least." Mum added the vegetables to the almost- full bag Dad was carrying. "Let's go back and get your brothers and sister. It's well past dinnertime for us."

()()()()

_Giza_

"Absolutely not." Molly Weasley placed both hands on her daughter's shoulders and glared at her oldest son. This was the third time in as many hours, and Bill was getting impatient.

"Oh, go on, Mum."

She pulled Ginny against her chest. "I am not sending Ginny into some cursed Muggle tomb. She's just a child!"

Bill glanced at his almost- twelve- year- old sister, who stood quietly in their mother's grip. "These tombs were cleared by curse breakers and have been perfectly safe for wizards for centuries. Some of them have a Muggle- repelling charm that makes them sick, but it won't hurt any of us. She wants to go, don't you, Gin- Gin?"

Ginny shrugged. In the forty- three hours since his family had arrived in Egypt, Bill had yet to get more than a hi and a brief, if tight, hug out of his chatty, gregarious sister. He exchanged a glance with Charlie, who was waiting at the tomb's entrance. This reticence was completely unlike the playful imp who followed them everywhere and never shut up.

Bill was afraid he knew why.

He had been trying for weeks— almost two months now— to find out exactly what happened to Ginny at the end of the school year. All Dad would say was she had been writing in a cursed diary. Mum had flat out refused to talk about it, ignoring his questions and filling her letters with news about his brothers and plans for the trip. And everyone insisted that Ginny was fine.

Bullocks.

"All right, then. You go with Charlie, and I'll stay with Ginny."

His mother eyed him with insulting skepticism (he had been babysitting Ginny since she was born) before releasing her hold on her baby girl. "I don't know why I would want to go inside a dusty old tomb in the first place."

"Maybe to make sure Percy actually comes out?" Charlie said. "Fred and George followed him, Dad, and Ron in there a good ten minutes ago."

Bill exchanged another glance with his brother, accompanied by a roll of the eyes this time, as their mother preceded Charlie into the tomb. Bill turned back to his sister. In deference to the blazing Egyptian sun, her pale English skin was covered in linen pants, a long- sleeved white shirt, and a wide straw hat that hid her face.

"Tell me something only Ginny Weasley would know." No response. "You look like Ginny, but you don't act like Ginny. I'm afraid Percy tied her up and left her at home, and you're his Polyjuiced girlfriend." Not even a hint of a smile, so Bill fell back on a Weasley sibling standby. "I dare you. Tell me something only Ginny would know."

" 'You can run away to Egypt if you like, Bill Weasley, but you'll still be a stuck- up, know- it- all prat who cares more about his résumé than people.' "

He winced. That was Ginny, all right. Did he say _chatty _and _gregarious_? He meant _big- mouthed _and _nosy_. She and Lindsay Campbell were the only two people who knew Lindsay's reaction when he broke up with her just before the start of seventh year. Still, he had got more than a shrug and a one- word answer.

"Why don't you want to go into the tombs?"

She shrugged. If he didn't know better, Bill would think he was dealing with a female. He waited, having never known Ginny not to fill in a silence. But she was stubborn too, and stood silent and motionless except for her left thumb, which was worrying a hangnail.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

Her chin came up; or rather, the brim of her hat tilted from downward to level.

"I've never been afraid of the dark before."

_Before._ Before what?

They were alone to the side of the entrance, so Bill conjured two chairs and a fan, and Ginny immediately dropped into hers. She hadn't acclimated to the heat yet, and unlike everyone else who had spent time in the coolness of the tombs, she had been outside all morning. He glanced at her again, thoroughly unsettled by this quiet, compliant shadow.

"I thought you might be having nightmares." She sat as still as a crocodile in the Nile. "I get them sometimes, after working round dark magic."

"They told you." She spat the words. He saw her saliva hit the sand and evaporate.

"No one will tell me anything except you were writing in a cursed diary. I've been hoping to hear the story from you."

Ginny adjusted the fan to blow directly on her. Bill refilled her water bottle with a spell and she drained it.

"I can help you, Ginny, but you have to tell me what happened."

She twisted the bottle in her hands. "You'll think I'm stupid."

"Have I ever done anything stupid?"

She had turned slightly to take full advantage of the artificial breeze, and he saw the corner of her mouth turn up; thinking of Lindsay, no doubt. She nodded.

"Do you really think I'm unintelligent?"

She shook her head. Merlin, this silent treatment was grating, and he was getting desperate to end it.

"Do you still love me?"

She shrugged.

"Bloody hell, Ginny!" Add _annoying brat_ to that list. She still wouldn't meet his gaze, but taking the piss was a definite improvement. "You can tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won't think you're stupid, and I'll still love you. You're my favorite sister."

"I'm your only sister."

"See? You'll always be my favorite." Bill heard his mother's strident tones coming from the tomb entrance. Apparently, Fred and George had tried to leave Percy behind. "Think about it, okay?"

()()()()

_Cairo_

Bill moved his glass away from Ron's wild gesturing and served himself a third helping of shepherd's pie. The entire family was gathered round a long table in the guest cottage's magically expanded kitchen, and the meal was progressing boisterously, as always. Ron was retelling the story of Scabbers's escape from his pocket, journey through the crowd of tourists in front of the Sphinx, and retreat under the striped robes of an African woman (apparently, Muggles were not accustomed to pet rats). Taking advantage of everyone's distraction, Bill elbowed Fred, who was sitting on his other side.

"So, fifth year. I know you're not holding your breath waiting for a prefect badge."

Fred grinned at him. "Hell, no. Holding our breath for the Head Boy badge is more like it. Anybody but Percy, please."

Bill didn't take offense, but he did feel the need to defend his old position. "There is nothing wrong with being Head Boy."

"There is if you use it to get your brothers in trouble."

"That's half the fun," Bill said, remembering a particularly heated argument between himself and Charlie that had brought McGonagall storming into the common room. "I'm sure Percy would be fair."

"Fairly obnoxious, maybe." Fred stabbed a carrot with surprising venom. There was more to that story, but part of keeping the peace in a big family was knowing when to let well enough alone.

"Ready for O.W.L.s?"

Fred swallowed and shrugged. "We're not fussed about them."

Bill raised his brows. "Planning to be unemployed, poor, and homeless, are you?"

"Not bloody likely."

"Look, Fred, even if you're not planning to go into the Ministry"— their mother's favorite occupation for all of them— "you're still going to need O.W.L.s. You can't take a N.E.W.T- level class if you don't have an O.W.L. in that subject, and I needed six N.E.W.T.s— "

Fred scowled. "Not you too. Mum and Percy haven't shut up about it all summer, about how we had better knuckle down this year or else."

"For good reason, Fred. What decent job doesn't require an O.W.L. in something?"

Fred looked to Bill, then round the table, then back to him again. "The kind you create yourself."

"Create yourself? You mean— like a business?"

Fred nodded, mouth full.

"You and George?"

He nodded again.

Bill turned to face him fully. "What kind of a business?"

Fred swallowed and shoveled another bite in, scraping his plate clean. "We're no' thaying."

"Yeah, because I'm the one with the big mouth."

Fred considered him, swallowed again, opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, "We want to sell stuff. Stuff that we've invented."

Bill studied his middle brother. Fred and George were smart (part of what drove Mum mental about their casual attitude towards school), creative, funny, and well- liked. They would make great salesmen. He didn't need to ask what they wanted to invent.

"Jokes and pranks, huh? Seems to me Charms might be pretty useful. And Transfiguration, and Potions, and— "

"We study those, but we don't actually need O.W.L.s. It's not like our customers are going to ask to see our marks before they buy our products. We're going to spend this year working on our business plan and coming up with ideas. And winning the Quidditch Cup," Fred added.

Charlie's ears were tuned to anything Quidditch. "Is Oliver Wood still playing Keeper for Gryffindor?"

Everyone's attention shifted, and Bill knew the opportunity had passed. Fred and George and a joke shop. Merlin help them when Mum found out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Bill Apparated into the alley behind the cottage and hoped he wasn't too late for breakfast. He had come home Tuesday night to a letter from a reporter at the Cairo outlet of the _Daily Prophet_, requesting the Weasley family come in for a photo no later than today. Dad had given an interview when the Grand Prize Galleon Draw winner had been announced, and the paper wanted to run the article with an accompanying photograph this weekend. According to the letter, they had a variety of popular tourist spots to use as backgrounds, so there was no need to go on location.

Bill ducked as an owl swooped low overhead and pecked at a window. Crossing the tiny courtyard, he opened the back door and waved the bird in, then followed it. It flew through the sitting room, into the kitchen (where he was pleased to see the family was still gathered for breakfast), and landed on the table in front of Percy.

"It's from Hogwarts!" Percy untied the letter and struggled with the seal, trying to peel it back in one piece.

"Here, Perce." Bill slit the wax with his wand and handed the heavy parchment back. Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny didn't have letters, which must mean. . . .

" 'Dear Mr. Weasley,' " Percy read aloud in an excited voice, " 'we are pleased to inform you— ' "

Fred and George groaned.

" '— that you have been selected as Hogwarts Head Boy for the 1993- 1994 school year! Enclosed is your Head Boy badge and a list of preliminary responsibilities to be completed by the start of term on September first. Congratulations on a well- deserved honor.' It's signed by Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore!"

"Oh, Percy!" Mum pushed back her chair and threw herself into his arms. Percy jerked his left arm, which was holding the precious letter, out of the way. "Congratulations, dear! I knew you would be selected."

Percy beamed. "Thanks, Mum."

"Well done, son," Dad said.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Fred muttered.

Mum rounded on him. "You would do well to take a leaf from Percy's book. I don't see any prefect letters for either of you!"

George looked horrified. "What do we want to be prefects for?"

"All your brothers have been prefects, and Bill was Head Boy— "

"Mum," Charlie protested.

"Leave us out of this," Bill said. But he rested a hand on Percy's shoulder and squeezed. "Well done, Perce. Congratulations."

Percy smiled up at him, and Bill saw a flash of the little boy he had been. "Thanks, Bill. I'm going to write Penelope and tell her the good news." Percy hurried out of the room, still clutching his letter and badge.

Bill took his chair, cleaned Percy's plate, cutlery, and glass with a quick _Scourgify_, ignored Ginny's upturned nose, and began to serve himself.

Mum returned to her seat at the other end of the table, and Dad returned to his paper.

"Well, there goes this year," George said quietly. "Percy will be intolerable."

"Do you think if we destroyed his badge, they would choose someone else?" Fred said.

"That's too much to hope for," Ron said.

"Honestly, you three. There is no reason Percy being Head Boy should ruin your school year unless you're actually planning to break the rules."

Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron looked at him incredulously, and then they all started to laugh.

()()()()

Amy Green stood in the Weasleys' guest cottage and tried not to let her shock show. _Five._ Bill had five brothers— and a sister. How had she missed that? She had heard him talk about his family, of course, but she'd never actually added up the names. How was she going to transport nine people— ten, including herself— halfway across the country? She'd planned on side- along Apparating the younger ones, but ten people?

"I'm thinking a flying carpet with a Disillusionment Charm."

Bill's voice was low and smooth in her ear. Damn, she hated when he did that— or rather, she hated that she loved it.

"But where are we going to get a big enough carpet on such short notice?"

"Well, you might not have known there were ten of us, but I did. It's out back."

Amy couldn't help the grin that spread over her face. She'd never ridden on a flying carpet. They were illegal in America, but wizards in Egypt had been using them for millennia and weren't inclined to change.

"We'll have to land in the Apparition point and then reverse the Disillusionment Charms one by one. And hope that no one else is Apparating at the same time. . . ." Amy glanced over the crowd again.

"Sounds like fun." One of the twins grinned at her.

"All right, everyone line up in front of an adult," Mr. Weasley said, "and let's get going."

Amy was not surprised when all five brothers lined up in front of her, jockeying for position. Bill rolled his eyes, yanked Charlie out with instructions to Disillusion himself, and started at the back of the line with the youngest boy. It was eerie, following someone she couldn't see, as they exited the cottage and approached the carpet. Amy spotted the problem immediately. How were they supposed to avoid sitting on each other when their outlines barely shimmered in the sunlight? They should have waited and done the Disillusionment charms after they were settled.

"Ouch, that's my hair!"

"Ron, geroff!"

"It wasn't me!"

"Ginny and Ron, you two get on the inside— no, not here, I'm here!"

No way was she diving blind into a pile of six single wizards.

"Here, Amy." Bill's wand floated in midair at the very back of the carpet. She circled it and stepped forward, and warm hands landed on her bottom.

"I'm not that short, Bill." Amy jerked the hands up to her waist.

"Actually, that was me." Charlie's voice.

"Boys!" Mr. Weasley called over the unmistakeable sounds of scuffling. Amy kicked out indiscriminately, making a space. "Everyone sit still and keep your hands to yourself!"

"Where's the fun in that?" Stereo— must be the twins.

"Which way, Amy?" Mr. Weasley cast the charm to Disillusion the carpet itself, and it began to hum and lift off the ground.

"Just fly south for now. We'll work out the rest when we get there."

()()()()

_Thebes_

Amy turned around, making sure all nine Weasleys were following her to the next site. She needn't have worried. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were walking hand- in- hand, and the boys, with Ginny tagging on Bill's arm, were right behind. They hadn't been more than a couple steps from her all day, and she had to admit the abundance of attention from six good- looking males was a lot of fun, and more than a little flattering. All right, so Ron and the twins, at thirteen and fifteen, were awfully young, but Percy was essentially of age (he had lost no time in informing her his seventeenth birthday was less than a month away). And Charlie's outrageous flirting had Bill glowering at him, which, given Bill's sanctimonious speech about not wanting to lead her on after their most recent "sleepover" a month ago, was nothing short of triumphant victory.

She had already given her spiel about polytheism in ancient Muggle Egypt, their worship of nature from the dung beetle to cats to the sun, the role of Pharaoh as a descendant of the gods, and their beliefs about the afterlife. Her little band was a good group, listening politely and even asking questions (although that was mostly Percy and Mr. Weasley).

Watching the siblings interact was fascinating. All four of the younger boys clamored for Bill's and Charlie's attention, and the older ones gave it in turn, usually with a healthy dose of sarcasm, which was often accompanied by roughhousing. She had learned that Percy was prefect and Head Boy (which she gathered was some sort of student leadership position), that Fred and George's antics were the bane of Percy's existence, and that nothing seemed to make the twins happier than insulting Percy or Ron. Ron was a bit shy with her but very sweet, even if he did have a rat for a pet. He reminded her of Bill in his more charming moments. And Charlie was nothing but a flirt, and a very good flirt at that. She hadn't flipped her hair this much in— well, since seventh grade, at least.

Ginny was clearly the baby princess and never far from Bill or Charlie (unless she was waiting with someone else outside a tomb). Amy supposed Ginny saw enough of Percy, Fred, George, and Ron at school and at home. But although her eyes glowed with humor and interest, she neither joined in her brothers' teasing nor asked any questions. Nor had she ventured inside any of the tombs, despite the brotherly goading. Either Bill had lied about his sister's sparkling personality, or something was very wrong.

Amy turned around outside the entrance to KV5 and smiled kindly at Ginny.

"You're going to want to come in this one, Ginny. It's the biggest of all the tombs, with over 121 hallways and chambers. At least six sons of Ramses the second are buried here, although it's suspected that there are more due to the paintings on the walls. And there's a beautiful columned chamber too." Amy carefully avoided Bill's eyes. The first time he kissed her was up against one of those columns.

Ginny stepped closer to her mother and didn't answer.

"Okay, Mr. Weasley, ready with the torch?" Everyone had stared blankly at her the first time she'd asked about a flashlight. The main sections of the tombs were lit, but she liked extra light to visualize the details.

Mr. Weasley held it up. "Fred, it's your turn to stay with Ginny."

"I'll do it."

Amy automatically looked at Bill when he spoke, then wished she hadn't. His blue eyes were staring straight into hers, and suddenly she was in the shadowy tomb again, pressed between an immovable object and the irresistible force that was Bill Weasley.

Charlie cleared his throat. Amy jumped and he smirked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. Again.

"Come on, Ginny. I'll go with you." Ron was trying to coax his sister into the tomb. Amy would say this for the boy, he was persistent. "Percy, give us the torch."

Percy was carrying a flashlight too, but he kept it in his hand. "You know, Gin- Gin— " the girl scowled at the pet name Amy had heard more than once today, "if I hadn't seen your Sorting myself, I would think you were a Hufflepuff."

Amy had no idea what a Hufflepuff was, but it appeared to be a relatively insulting remark, for every Weasley, including the adults, froze and waited to see what Ginny would do. Much to Amy's surprise, the girl shrugged off her mother's arm, snatched the flashlight from Percy's hand, and stalked into the tomb. Everyone followed.

Unencumbered by his baby sister, Bill shoved Fred— George?— a twin— out of the way to walk beside Amy.

"The columned room is beautiful, huh? Can't say that I noticed."

"It was dark."

"And I was busy with . . . other things."

Amy frowned at him, tilting her head toward Ginny and Percy ahead of them, but he just grinned at her and leaned in close.

"Know any other side chambers?"

Amy shivered at his breath on her ear and hoped he wasn't close enough to notice. There had been other people in the columned chamber that day, and when they had started to attract their attention, Amy had led him through the maze of corridors to a deserted side chamber still cluttered with debris from flash flooding. And then they more than kissed.

Concealed in the semi- darkness between Percy at the front of the group (who had taken the flashlight back from Ginny) and Mr. Weasley at the back, Bill slipped a hand across her back, around her waist, over her hip, and pulled her against him. Amy stepped away.

This is why they didn't work, why she refused to go over to his place (well, most of the time), why she couldn't get over him. It wasn't fair, the way he pushed her away and then pulled her back. She was tired of being jerked around, and this— today— this possessiveness was about Charlie.

"You'll see multiple types of decoration here, including graffiti, paintings, and raised relief. . . ."

()()()()

_Cairo_

"Mum is going to invite you for dinner, and you're going to say yes." They had arrived safely— barely, thanks to Fred and George— back at the guest cottage, and Bill pulled Amy aside. She had been avoiding him ever since he made that pass in KV5, but he wasn't going to let her be rude to his mum.

"Don't worry. I have no intention of snubbing your parents, just you." She jerked her arm away and followed Ron into the cottage.

"Nice."

He hadn't even noticed Charlie standing there. Bill clenched his jaw, then walked away.

Okay, so he had let Charlie's flirting, and Amy's apparent interest, get to him. When she had mentioned the columned room, all he could think about was how incredible that had been, making love in quasi- seclusion, with more than magic flowing over his skin. _She _was incredible, beautiful, smart, talented, experienced. . . . Bill shook his head, trying to clear the memories. Amy was incredible, and she deserved better than being felt up in a dimly-lit corridor because he was jealous of his little brother. He waved his wand, and the carpet rolled itself into a tube and leaned against the back of the cottage.

Flying the carpet had been fun. It was the first time he had seen a full- fledged smile on Ginny's face all week. She had been positively beaming when Dad undid the Disillusionment Charm. She loved to fly, had always begged and begged him and Charlie to take her up with them on their broomsticks. And she would have had lessons at Hogwarts last year, so Mum couldn't complain about her being too young any more. He hadn't got her birthday present yet, hoping she would mention something while they were together, but maybe he could do something else instead.

()()()()

Bill managed to maneuver himself beside Amy for dinner. She was sitting at the corner of the table next to his mum, and the two witches were deep in a conversation about shopping. Maybe Amy would volunteer to take Mum to the souks, and he could get out of that chore altogether. A piercing whistle sounded.

"Ron, would you _put that away_! I can't believe you wasted your money on such a rubbish souvenir."

Ron had bought a Pocket Sneakoscope for his best friend's birthday present and insisted on displaying it on the table. Ever since Mum served the soup it kept going off for no reason, much to the twins' amusement. Percy was getting a head start on the school year by lecturing Ron and Ginny, who were sitting on either side of him, on the behaviors that would lead to their being chosen as prefects. Bill leaned towards Charlie.

"Please tell me I wasn't that obnoxious."

"No can do, big brother. Besides, I'd bet you a week's worth of chores your badge is still in your treasure box under your bed."

That was the thing about brothers; they knew all your secrets.

"Troll."

"Swot."

The two engaged in a (mostly) friendly tug of war for the last of the butterbeer.

"Spill that and I'll make you both sorry," Mum warned.

He gave an extra pull and the pitcher slid out of Charlie's hands. Bill smirked.

Dinner continued with the usual chaos, punctuated by the Sneakoscope's whistling, Percy's lecturing, and, most enjoyably, Ginny's yelling. She put Percy in his place much the same way she had done to Bill four days ago in Giza, and Ron gave her half of his dessert.

Everyone was just settling into a sleepy stupor when Amy began stacking her dishes.

"Mrs. Weasley, that was the best dinner I've had in months. Can I help you clean up?"

"Oh, no, dear, the boys can do it, thank you."

"All right. I'm going to head home then. It was nice to meet all of you."

Everyone chorused their goodbyes, and Bill stood with her.

"I'll see you home."

"There's no need. I'm going to Apparate."

"Don't be stupid. It's after dark."

Amy's eyes narrowed. Why did girls always do that after you had said the wrong thing, when it was too late to take it back?

"And I'm a big girl. I'll be fine, Bill."

He heard her silent reproach: _I've left your flat a lot later than this, and you've never offered to see me home._

"I'll follow you." He was trusting she wouldn't make a scene in front of his parents, and he wanted to apologize for this afternoon.

She turned from the hall, slung her bag over her shoulder, and glared at him.

"I'll take you," Charlie said.

"We'll all go," Fred said cheerily.

Amy's posture relaxed, and she smiled at his brothers. "That's sweet of you" — why wasn't it sweet of him? He had offered first!— "but I'm used to getting around the city by myself." She turned to Bill. "I'll send my Patronus when I'm home, okay?"

Bill realized it was the most he was going to get. "Okay. Be— careful." He sighed. She had already turned on the spot and disappeared.

"Ginny and I cooked, so you boys wash up," Mum said, swiping her knitting bag from a corner and walking out of the kitchen.

"Not it!" All six brothers spoke at once. Bill, Charlie, and Percy glared, and Fred, George, and Ron began clearing the table.

Bill pushed open the door and headed outside. Charlie followed him. They had just sat down on the back stoop when a silver blur streaked down the alley, formed into a cougar, and faded out.

"I'd say the friends thing is iffy, and you can forget about the benefits," Charlie said.

No kidding.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: *rubs hands in glee* This is one of my favorite chapters, but I have to say I took _copious_ liberties with the facts. My Egypt tour books informed me that a man's best chance of being allowed into a Cairo club was to come with a woman and that groups of men were routinely denied entry. This just wouldn't do with six wizards to entertain, so I blatantly ignored their advice. I also have to say, I do NOT advise taking anyone under-age to a bar, whether drinking or not, but since this is not only fiction, but fanfiction, I ignored my own advice too. The info about the dancers is real (or at least, unchanged from my sources).

My **Missing Moments Lottery Challenge** is up! Remove the spaces to link: http:/ forum. fanfiction. net/ topic/ 44309/ 55920858/ 1/

Read, enjoy, and please review!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Bill charmed the knives to chop vegetables and leaned back against the worktop. He glanced at his mother, who was stirring a sauce with her wand and humming to herself. Now looked to be as good a time as any.

"Do you and Dad have any plans for tonight?"

"Hmm? No, not really. Just an ordinary evening."

"I was thinking about taking some of the kids over to my place." And then going out from there, but Mum didn't need to know that. "Maybe spend the weekend."

"Just some?"

"Well, everyone except Ron and Ginny."

"Bill, you know they're going to want to go. I can see you leaving Ginny behind, since she's a girl, but you can't take all your brothers except for Ron."

She didn't understand— he _couldn't _take Ron. Fred and George were pushing it. "Ron is too young, Mum. Unless you think I should leave Fred and George behind too."

She scowled, pointing her wand at him instead of the sauce. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"What's going on?"

Charlie and Ron, who had been playing chess, came into the kitchen. From the looks on their faces, Charlie had been beaten again. Bill winked at his youngest brother, who grinned back and swiped a carrot.

Mum pursed her lips and turned back to her sauce.

"What, Mum wants to cut your hair again?" Charlie said.

"No, I want him to play fair."

"Bill's not playing fair? Do tell." Fred and George had a knack for showing up exactly when they were not wanted.

"He wants to have all of you over except for Ron and Ginny."

"Sounds like a good idea to me." George reached for the biscuit tin and got his hand smacked.

"Over when?" Ron said.

"To do what?" Charlie said, silently Summoning the biscuit tin as Mum turned to put the spices away. He passed it to George, and the twins and Ron left the room.

Bill shrugged as he and Charlie followed. "Tonight, if you like. I dunno, I thought we could go out for drinks, maybe listen to some music. Nothing big." He caught Charlie's eye. _Help me._

"So, let's make it a wizards' night— all six brothers, and we'll leave just Ginny at home."

Bill crossed his arms and gave Charlie a pointed look. _Not that kind of help, you idiot. _He dropped onto the sofa and accepted the tin from Ron. "Ron is a bit young, still. For that matter, so are you," he added to the twins.

"I'm thirteen!"

"Too young for a concert?" Fred said. "Wait a minute. What are you really planning?"

Bill glared at his closest brother— this was all Charlie's fault— then through the open doorway into the kitchen, where Mum was clearly visible. He waved his wand at the wireless, and the local news blared into the room.

"I have a friend who is a bouncer at a club uptown. I helped him out of a spot of trouble with his wife and he owes me. I think I can get Fred and George in, but Ron is too young."

"Wicked."

He had known the twins would approve, and Ron was practically vibrating with excitement.

Charlie looked Ron up and down. "He's a bit scrawny, but he's taller than Fred and George. If we put Ron in the middle and insist it's all or nothing, they'll let us in."

Bill considered this. Ron was perched on the edge of his seat, half- eaten biscuit forgotten in his hand. He was smart enough to know begging wouldn't improve his chances, but his eyes were pleading. Bill's conscience twinged. A thirteen- year- old boy had no business at a belly- dancing club in the wee hours of the morning. But Ron would owe him for life, and that was too good to resist.

"All right. But no drinking— all three of you."

As Ron, Fred, and George exchanged high- fives, the wireless shut off.

"What are you lot up to?"

Ginny nicked the biscuit tin from between Fred and George and sat down on Bill's lap. Well, that was convenient. He helped himself.

"Bill's taking us into the city tonight— "

"And you're not coming."

Ginny scowled at the twins and Bill braced himself. Unlike Ron, Ginny often begged because— well, because her begging got results. There she went, lower lip sliding out in a pout.

"Not this time, Gin- Gin." The lip trembled slightly and her eyes widened. She was doing it on purpose. He knew she was doing it on purpose. . . .

"Not tonight, Ginny." Charlie, who couldn't see her face, was firm.

Ginny dropped the mask and stood up. "Like I want to go anywhere with a bunch of stupid, smelly boys, anyway," she said, and stalked into the kitchen, taking the biscuits with her.

"That's the spirit," Charlie said, and Bill couldn't help but agree. Somehow, though, he didn't think she would consider boys unworthy of her time for long.

"Mum, I found this in the sitting room."

"Boys! Get in here and help me with dinner right now. You know you are not allowed to have biscuits before we eat!"

Ginny leaned against the kitchen doorway, her catty smile unfazed by the five glowering brothers who passed her on their way to work.

()()()()

"All right, boys, that's the last of it." Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron had got stuck with the washing up too, while Ginny read in the sitting room and Percy was upstairs writing to his girlfriend again. "Pack a bag and meet me down here in ten minutes. And tell Percy. We'll have to Floo."

"A bag? What for?" Ron said as the other three left the kitchen.

Bill turned to him, surprised. " 'Cause you're spending the night. We'll have a lie- in in the morning."

Ron looked crestfallen. "I— I didn't know you wanted us to stay. I thought we would be coming back here."

Bill shook his head. "No time, Ron. We're going to my flat now so Mum doesn't get suspicious, but we won't actually leave for the club until nearly midnight."

Ron looked into the sitting room, up at the ceiling, and back down at the floor. What the hell? Bill flipped through the events of the last several days in his head. Had he offended Ron without realizing it? Why didn't his kid brother want to hang out with him?

"Ron? Is something wrong?"

"It's just . . . Ginny."

Bill sighed. Ron and Ginny had always been inseparable. Bill had thought that might change once Ron went to Hogwarts, but apparently not. "We're not taking her, Ron. No way."

Ron still looked anxious. "It's not that, it's just . . . promise not to tell?"

Bill straightened, giving Ron his full attention. Maybe he could shed some light on what was going on with Ginny. "I promise."

"Ginny has been having nightmares, and sometimes she comes in to sleep with me. Maybe— maybe I shouldn't go, in case she has a bad night."

Bill hesitated. He didn't want to cause Ginny distress, but he did want Ron to come with them. "It's up to you, Ron. Mum is here. You know she will take care of Ginny if she has a bad dream." What exactly was Ginny dreaming about, and why was she going to Ron instead of Mum in the first place? "We can't have a wizards' night without you; we would be missing a brother. I'd really like for you to come." Bill was surprised by how much he meant it. Ron was a good kid, and besides, as much as he was looking forward to the dancing himself, he was really looking forward to watching his brothers' reactions.

Ron wavered, chewing on his lip for a moment before deciding. "All right. But let me tell her I'll be gone all night, okay?"

Bill reached— out and tussled his hair. Ron was taller than the twins. When the hell had that happened? Bill was just getting used to looking Percy in the eye.

"Okay. And Ron?"

He turned in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Bring your chess set."

Ron grinned.

()()()()

Bill edged forward a couple of inches and tamped down his nerves. As six pale ginger males in a city of dark- skinned, dark- haired Arabs and Africans, they were drawing a lot of attention. What if he couldn't get them in? He hadn't told Anhur they were coming because he had reckoned it was harder to say no to six people than to one person, but maybe that was a mistake. Maybe he should have mentioned something about bringing his brothers, and really, what had possessed him to agree to bring Ron? He was thirteen, for Merlin's sake! And Fred and George, were there two more immature fifteen- year- olds in all of Britain? And even Percy. So he had a girlfriend, that didn't mean he had seen a real live naked woman. And even if they were shagging, Bill knew Percy had never seen anything like _this._ Oh, hell, they were almost to the door.

"Weasley!" Anhur boomed. He ignored Bill's outstretched hand, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed him on both cheeks. Bill felt his ears grow hot. Almost four years in Egypt and he still couldn't get used to that.

"_Salam_, Anhur. How are you? I would like for you to meet my brothers." Bill waved his hand over the group.

Anhur sobered. "You are a young man, Bill. You cannot have so many brothers who are grown."

"Some of them are twins." He let Anhur consider this for a moment, then played his trump card. "How is Sasha?"

Anhur's face split into a wide grin. "She is beautiful and very happy. We are having a baby."

"That's great news, man! Congratulations!" Bill slapped him on the back. "Let us drink a toast to the health and prosperity of your family."

Anhur gave him a look that said he was not fooled, but he stepped aside. "The young ones, you keep them in line, or you are all out the door."

"No trouble, I promise." Bill stopped just inside the door and gave Fred, George, and Ron his best older brother death glare. "Remember, this is a Muggle club. Keep your mouths shut and your hands to yourself. And I'm serious about the alcohol." He waited for each boy to give his word, then scanned the crowd. "All right, let's try to find a table."

()()()()

Bill took another drink and pretended not to see Charlie passing his scotch to George under the table; but if any of them choked, the game was up. They'd had good timing. The club was full now, standing room only, but there had still been two open tables near the stage when they had arrived. Getting served hadn't been a problem, either. They did stand out, and all of his brothers could be charming when they wanted to be, even Percy. And no less than three waitresses had stopped by their table to coo over his baby brother. It looked like the challenge would be in keeping their hands off Ron.

Speaking of whom, the glass had reached Ron now, and Bill watched out of the corner of his eye as Ron took a drink. He swallowed, grimaced, passed the liquor back to Fred, and drank deeply from his bottle of Coke. Bill leaned back in his chair. Maybe this would turn out okay, after all.

The band was wrapping up, and Charlie leaned across the table to shout at him. "Think we should tell them?"

"Tell us what?" Percy said.

Bill and Charlie grinned at each other. He had brought Charlie the last time he was down, so he knew what was coming.

"Nah, it's more fun to be surprised," Bill said.

"Tell us what?" Fred demanded.

"You'll see," Charlie said. He smiled over Bill's shoulder, and a waitress materialized with a bottle of Scotch.

Bill asked for one too, and she was back almost immediately, setting down a glass and pouring him a generous serving. She went out of her way to walk past Ron, trailing her hand over his shoulders. Ron twitched, and Bill knew her touch had given him chills. Ron saw him watching and made a show of clasping his hands together and putting them in his lap properly. Bill raised his brows and smirked, unsure if his youngest brother would catch his implication. But judging from the redness of his face, glowing even in the low lighting of the club, he did.

"Lucky," Bill mouthed, and Ron relaxed, grinning back at him.

Then the lights dimmed even further and a heavy drumbeat started.

"Bloody hell," Percy said.

Bill turned. A dancer was standing in the spotlight in a red and gold costume, arms outstretched, satin- slippered feet posed, moving nothing but her hips. It was illegal in Egypt for the dancers to bare their midriffs, but the women got around this with sleek, one- piece dresses that hugged every curve and had sheer fabric in strategic locations. This one was a halter dress, with a single red strap running behind her neck and a gold- beaded top that followed the curve of her breasts, dipping deeply between them. Gold embroidered flowers trailed from her right breast to her left hip, but the rest of her torso, all the way down to her hipbones, was exposed by gold mesh. The red fabric of her skirt made a graceful curve in front, covering the center of her lower pelvis but exposing the sides of her hips and upper thighs under sheer gold. Her skirt was skin tight to mid- thigh and then flared out in sections, exposing long, golden legs as she turned. He heard someone— he thought it was Percy again— gasp as she turned fully for the first time. Straight glossy hair fell halfway to her waist, but below that her entire back was exposed. There couldn't have been a thumb's width of fabric between the cleft of her buttocks and the top of her skirt, and then she was turning again, dancing in earnest.

She looked like Amy, all golden tanned skin, long dark hair, and slim, graceful limbs. Bill swallowed.

He felt a sharp pain in his shin and looked up. Charlie jerked his head towards their younger brothers, seated round the table between them. Fred and George were gaping— all but drooling— in wide- eyed fascination, while a red- faced Ron was staring at the table and sneaking glances from under his fringe. Bill felt a wave of sympathy. He wouldn't be thirteen again for all the treasure in Egypt. Percy was watching her intently too, but at least he had remembered Bill's instructions to keep his mouth shut.

"How does she _do_ that?"

Bill turned back to the dancer, who was moving her hips and torso in fluid, undulating waves. "I have no idea."

Charlie kicked him again, mouthed "watch this," and reached his hand out to close George's gaping mouth. Much to their amusement, Fred's closed too before he opened it to speak.

"Are you sure she's not a witch?"

Bill had been right; watching his brothers' reactions was nearly as good as the dance. "Does it matter?"

Fred and George shook their heads wordlessly, never tearing their eyes from the graceful female.

Bill spared a final glance for Ron, who was getting braver and letting his eyes linger for a bit, before turning back to enjoy the show.

()()()()

Bill shepherded his brothers out the door (where they each thanked Anhur profusely and sincerely) and onto the pavement. It was very late— or early, depending on your perspective— but the boys were too wired to be sleepy. And he had stopped counting how many bottles of Coke Ron had after the fourth one.

"Did you see the blue one, that thing she did with her chest— "

"Don't be stupid, Ron, she wasn't blue." That was Percy, always proper. He even ogled properly.

"The girl in the blue dress then. Did you see her?"

"She was hard to miss. But I still say the second dancer was my favorite." Charlie was a sucker for blonds, even fake ones. "What about you, Bill, which dancer did you like best?"

Charlie's voice was a little too innocent- sounding to be real, and Bill didn't take the bait.

"The first one," Fred said.

"Definitely," George agreed. "Who was your favorite, Ron?"

"He liked the waitress best," Percy teased. "The one who kept flashing us every time she refilled drinks. Damn, I'm glad I sat beside you, Ron. What was her name? Amira? Amyra?"

"Amitra," Ron muttered. "She was nice."

All five brothers laughed.

"She was," Ron said defensively. "One time she asked if I wanted Coke or something else, and when I asked her what else she had— "

Charlie sniggered.

"She brought me all the other fizzy drinks. So, now I can tell Hermione I've had Coca- Cola, and Diet Coke, and Sprite, and a cherry- flavored one." He sounded pleased with himself.

"Hey, Ron," Fred said suddenly. "Hermione is Muggle- born. You think she knows how to dance like that?"

Ron shoved Fred hard enough to cause him to stumble significantly, almost landing in the street.

"Watch it," Bill said, grabbing the back of Fred's shirt. "Egyptians consider driving to be a full- contact sport."

"What does that mean?" Percy said.

Bill had no idea. It was something Amy said all the time. "It means stay out of the street."

"Here's an idea, Fred." Ron's voice was sharp. "When you see Hermione, why don't you ask her?"

"I like all my parts right where they are, thank you."

"So, your witch is good with a wand, is she?" Bill said. They turned the corner.

"She's not my witch."

He smiled at Ron's automatic denial.

"But, yeah, she's brilliant. Top of our class in everything," Ron said proudly.

"Isn't Amy Muggle- born?" Charlie said. An appreciative groan sounded from the group at the idea of a belly- dancing Amy. "She would look hot in one of those costumes."

"Amy looks hot in anything," Bill said without thinking and his brothers laughed. "All right, that's enough. She's a friend of mine. We are not going to talk about her behind her back."

"What did you do to piss her off?" Percy said as they waited for a break in traffic, then crossed the street.

"What makes you think I pissed her off?"

"She snubbed you all through dinner last week, and she obviously didn't want you to see her home. Even witches who don't like you will let you walk them to their common room."

"Cheers, Perce."

"I'm just saying, you two were flirting all day, and then. . . ."

Charlie smirked. "All of us were flirting with her all day. Maybe that was the problem."

"We're just friends." If Bill had a sickle for every time he had said that since he met Amy Green, well, he could afford to take all his brothers out again. And maybe again.

"You don't like her?″ Ron said. ″I thought she was really nice, and fun. Charlie likes her, don't you, Charlie?"

"I do, very much." Charlie was struggling to hold in his laughter.

"Well, then, what's the problem?" George said. "We've already determined you think she's hot."

How the hell had Bill ended up in a conversation with his little brothers about his ex- girlfriend? "Unfortunately, Casanova, there is more to a relationship with a woman than thinking she's hot."

"Like what?" They had stopped at another red light, and Ron looked up at Bill.

"Like wanting the same things, for starters." He tried to shake Ron off when the light turned green, but his little brother's legs weren't that short anymore.

"What kinds of things?"

Bill sighed. Ron, Fred, George, and even Percy were watching him closely. Sometimes it sucked being the oldest. It really did.

"Like how serious you want your relationship to be, what you're going to tell other people about the two of you, and still liking each other when the sex is over."

"You didn't like her when the sex was over?" Percy sounded puzzled.

"For Merlin's sake! It is none of your damn business, and if any of you say anything to Amy to make her uncomfortable," he shot an extra glare at Charlie, "I'll make sure you can't have sex with anyone, got it? Open the door, George, we're here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Amy inserted Bill's key in the lock. She probably should give this back. It was the kind of thing a girlfriend carried around, and Bill had made it clear— on more than one occasion— that he didn't consider her his girlfriend.

Forget the key, she should stop unannounced visits, period.

All six Weasley boys— men— _males— _were sprawled across Bill's living room floor in various states of undress, and they were starting to wake up. Amy wasn't a prude, really she wasn't, but . . . wow.

Percy was first. "Amy?"

"Good morning." Merlin, was that her voice? "I, um, I came to see Bill."

"Yes, I gathered that."

Of course he did. Bill was the only one who lived here.

"Will you hand me my glasses? They're right behind you on the mantel." He yawned widely.

Amy had to step over Ron (curled around his pillow, he looked absolutely adorable) and in between Charlie and Percy to reach him.

"Cheers." Percy took his glasses from her hand and scrubbed his hands over his face (he had lashes to die for) before putting them on. Then he unfolded his long frame from the floor and, completely un- self- consciously, walked across the apartment to the bathroom in nothing but a pair of boxers. Percy Weasley was a good- looking young man, and that's all there was to it.

"Morning."

The amused voice came from the range of her ankle, and Amy jerked her gaze away from Percy's backside to meet Charlie's eyes. His were brown, like adobe in the rain, and warm. Hot, even.

"Nothing like waking up to a dream come true. You're still here."

Amy felt a familiar flutter in her stomach and tried to keep her eyes focused on Charlie's (or at least on his face), but he wasn't wearing a shirt, either. He had the same flaming red hair as Bill, and the same charming smile (gods, she bet the two of them together could get pretty much anything they wanted from any female), but Charlie's freckles gathered in clusters that made him look almost tan, and his build was different, solid and more muscular. Definitely more muscular, she decided, as her eyes traced wide shoulders, a defined chest, and followed a dusting of rusty fur down flat abs. He raised one pajama- clad knee, placing his foot flat on the floor, and Amy blushed.

"You look good too," he said.

Amy met his eyes again. Hell and damnation, why did Bill keep it so hot in here? At least she was wearing a skirt . . . wait a minute, could Charlie see up it? She took several hasty steps backward and tripped.

"Oof!"

Wonderful, she'd landed right in George's arms— or was it Fred? And did no one in England sleep in a shirt?

"Good morning, beautiful." Fred— she was pretty sure it was Fred— had the same muscular build of his second- oldest brother, even if he hadn't completely grown into it yet.

"It's afternoon, actually, and watch your hands." Amy put a little bite in her tone, but he was undaunted.

"Oh, I am."

There wasn't really anything wrong with his hands. Slightly higher than her waist, they were still well away from her breasts. Then he started drumming his fingers on her rib cage, and Amy closed her eyes as her nipples tightened in response. How did a fifteen- year- old kid know she loved that?

"That's enough, Fred."

To her surprise, he obeyed Bill immediately, lifting her as he stood and setting her on her feet. Percy came back from the bathroom, and Fred took his place.

Amy looked down at the man lying casually on his side at the edge of the room. Gods, he was gorgeous. So were his brothers, but there was something special about Bill. Call it presence, call it charisma, whatever "it" was, Bill had it.

"Surprise."

Amy flushed again. She probably wasn't her normal skin tone since she had opened the door. "Sorry. I should've Flooed first."

"Bullocks. This is the best morning we've had in ages, isn't it, boys?"

There was a chorus of agreement, and the noise caused Ron to burrow deeper into his pillow. Bill stretched out a long— and naked— leg and prodded Ron in the shoulder. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

"Five mo' min'sss."

Bill kicked him again. "Wake up, Ron. You'll be sorry you missed this."

"What?" Ron rolled over with a scowl.

Amy cocked her hip and smiled. She wasn't above being a young wizard's fantasy. She watched as Ron's eyes caught on her bright yellow sandals, then followed the line of her bare legs up to the hem of her skirt, on up to pause at her hips, another gratifying stop at her chest, and finally to her face, where he flushed clear to his hairline.

"Hello, Ron. Sleep well?"

He squeaked something unintelligible and clutched his pillow. Amy took pity on him and was turning back to the wizard she had come to see when something gray and furry ran across her foot. She screamed.

″It's just Scabbers,″ Ron said. ″He won't hurt you.″

Amy glared down at the laughing wizards and rubbed the top of her head. She bumped it on the ceiling when she had Apparated on top of Bill's bookcase, the highest point in the room. ″Get him out of here!″

″I'm sorry,″ Percy said, picking Scabbers up and stroking his head with one finger. ″He used to be mine. He must have seen me and come running.″

″Well, put him in his cage or something.″ It was uncomfortable crouching up here, but she was not coming down until that rodent was gone.

″I'll take him,″ Ron said, tucking the rat into his pocket. ″You can come down now.″ He grinned.

Amy did not respond in kind.

″I'll help you.″ Bill stood up. Like Percy, he was wearing boxers and was completely comfortable in them. Amy couldn't quite focus on his face, but she did manage to keep it above his waist. Not that it helped much; she knew exactly what Bill looked like without boxers on. She rested her hands on his shoulders, and he swung her to the floor.

"I came over to invite you to lunch, but can I at least talk to you for a minute?"

"We can talk in my room."

"I don't think so." She ignored the stifled sniggering from their audience.

He grinned at her, completely unrepentant. "The bathroom?"

Warm steam billowing around them, warm lips on her neck, cold tile behind her back. . . . "No."

"That just leaves the cupboard, love."

"Fine. Get dressed and I'll make coffee." Amy turned her back, rewarded George's silence by stepping over him, and headed for the kitchen.

"Make it tea."

"You hate my tea."

"That's because you put ice in it!"

Amy smiled. "Hot tea is for sore throats, old ladies, and British people."

"I'm British!" No matter how many times they had this argument, Bill's response was always the same and always exasperated.

He reappeared in the doorway just as the kettle started to whistle. In snug jeans and a white t- shirt, with his hair still sleep- disheveled, Bill looked almost as good dressed as he did in his underwear.

"Come on." He took her hand and tugged.

"The kettle— "

"Somebody will take care of it. In you get." Bill opened the door of the tiny coat closet, ushered her inside, closed it behind himself, and warded it.

"Is that really necessary?"

"_Lumos._ You don't have brothers, do you?"

He knew she was an only child. He was looking at her expectantly, but Amy's mouth was dry. This was harder than she thought.

He broke the silence between them. "Last week, at Thebes. I let Charlie's flirting wind me up, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk about. I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"We're not seeing each other."

"Yes, we are, all too often, and I can't do it, Bill. I can't sort out my feelings when I'm still spending time with you. And the way you keep flirting with me, even though I know you don't mean it— it sucks and it's not fair."

He tucked her hair behind her ear and let the backs of his fingers brush down her neck. In this tiny space, with the wand light glowing directly on her, she knew he saw her shiver. Amy crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

"But we're good together," he whispered.

"The sex is fantastic," she admitted. "But I need more than that."

He looked disappointed, and Amy steeled herself to resist. This is where she always gave in, where she always gave up, and it just hurt too much.

"But I like you— I really do."

"I know. I like you too. But this— this— ″ She waved her hand between them— ″this benefits thing has got to stop."

He was quiet for a moment, still fiddling with her hair. Amy gathered it together, pulling it out of his hand and behind her back.

"What about— "

"I'll help out while your family's here. Just let me know what you need. But after that, we're taking a break— a real break— and in the meantime, I want you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Are you sure about that?"

His voice was low and smooth again, and his hands slid from her hips, up the curve of her waist, over the flare of her rib cage, and stopped just under her breasts, tantalizingly close but not touching. Amy took a shaky breath, and then his thumbs starting tracing her ribs. Desire was rising, but there was anger too. He knew she loved that kind of teasing touch, and he was using it to manipulate her. What did he want her to do, screw him here in the closet with hangers poking into her neck and all of his brothers right outside the door?

Amy grabbed Bill's wrists and twisted sharply, waiting for his hiss of pain before pushing his hands down.

"Yes, I'm sure. I have to go." She gripped the door handle but it didn't turn, and her wand was in her purse on the other side of the door. "Let me out."

"Amy— "

"Let me out before I start pounding on this door." Charlie and Percy would come to her rescue, she was sure.

"There's no need to be dramatic."

Bill released the charms, and Amy spilled out into the living room, almost into Charlie's arms.

″I was just coming to call you to breakfast—″

Pushing away from him, she snatched her purse up and gave the room a general wave. "Have a good day, guys. I'll see you later." She fumbled with the lock and retreated to the safety of the hallway. Amy leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, causing a few tears to spill over. Why couldn't he just love her back?

()()()()

Bill stood in front of his dresser counting out the money for the delivery boy. What had looked like a generous withdraw a fortnight ago had diminished greatly. Good thing he was going back to work on Monday. Neither he nor Charlie had been able to take off as long as Dad. Charlie was returning to Romania on the fifteenth, a week earlier than everyone else was going back to England, but he said he was planning to come back to celebrate Percy's birthday on the twenty- second. Which reminded Bill, he still needed to get Percy's present. Something for school or his Head Boy role would be ideal. . . .

"What's the damage?" Charlie walked into Bill's bedroom, money bag in hand.

"I have it."

"Don't be a prat. I couldn't chip in last night because I didn't have any Muggle money, but I can cover this."

They had ordered Indian takeaway from a wizarding delivery service. With the ability to Apparate, the food arrived fresh and piping- hot mere minutes after every order. There was a loud bang and another burst of laughter from the sitting room, where the boys were playing a rather raucous game of Exploding Snap. At this rate, they wouldn't be able to hear the knock on the door. Maybe he should send the loser downstairs with the money.

"What did she say?" Charlie asked, glancing at the delivery ticket lying on the dresser.

"Who?"

"Amy."

"About what?"

"About whatever it was she wanted to talk with you in private about."

"Nothing."

Charlie stopped counting coins and gave Bill a "don't bullshit me" look. "Witches do not have conversations about nothing in cupboards."

Bill busied himself sorting his own coins, separating Muggle from wizarding. "She thinks we should stop seeing each other."

"I thought you weren't seeing each other."

"That's what I said."

Charlie stacked the correct change on the edge of the dresser.

"Don't forget about baksheesh."

"Don't change the subject."

But Charlie held out a handful of change, and Bill took three extra sickles. "She said she would help out while you lot were here, but then she wants to take a break."

"So, you have been seeing each other."

Bill shrugged one shoulder. Did stopping by with takeaway and ending up in bed count as seeing a witch?

"If you're both friends, that's one thing, but if she wants something more, you have no business messing her around."

"I'm not." Bill had made a point of being upfront with her, right from the very beginning.

Charlie looked skeptical. "Ron is right— I do really like Amy. It seems to me she's half in love with you, and you're using that just to have an easy shag."

Bill smirked. "You haven't shagged her."

"I could change that."

And suddenly the brothers were toe- to- toe and chin- to- nose, and for the first time since sixth year, Bill was considering hitting his best friend.

"We haven't fought over a witch in years, and you expect me to believe you're 'just friends'? You need to figure out if you're jealous of me, or jealous of her. Because I'm starting to wonder if you really do love her and just aren't man enough to say so."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Bill, Floo!" Ron yelled.

For a moment, Bill didn't think Charlie was going to let him by.

"Stop mucking about. It's the Floo!" Bill smacked the back of George's head, shoved Ron out of the way as he stepped over Percy, and bent down in front of the man's head floating in his fireplace.

"Mr. Weasley? We have received a report from our delivery witch that there was no answer at your door. Do you still want your order?"

His brothers had gone magically silent at the words "delivery witch" and were nodding fervently.

"I'm sorry. Yes, we do. Is she still here?"

"Right outside your door, Mr. Weasley. Have a pleasant evening."

"I'll get it!" Percy said, standing up and holding his hands out for the money.

"Are you paying?" Charlie asked, already crossing to the door.

Percy scowled and sat down.

Charlie exchanged a few pleasantries with the young witch, traded gold for food, and kicked the door closed behind him. The mob descended.

"Oi! Everybody back off, or I'll Vanish all of it." Charlie's threat was quite effective, and the two eldest brothers were able to distribute the meal in relative peace. If they were more brusque with each other than usual, no one noticed.

Bill passed Ron a Coke, and his eyes lit up. "A fizzy drink! I liked that stuff. Thanks, Bill."

Bill returned his smile. Ron was always easy to please. "You're welcome. Your holiday is almost half over. What else do you want to do while you're here?"

"We miss Quidditch," George said around a mouthful of lentils, and there was a chorus of agreement.

"We can't fly in the city, boys. I'm sorry."

"We did with the carpet," Fred said, reaching for more naan.

"I am not Disillusioning you and your broomsticks and turning you loose in a foreign country," Bill said firmly. "The only reason Mum let me take you lot is because she believes I'll return all of you, and in one piece."

"Although why she wants you back, we have no idea," Charlie said. He passed Bill the spicy version of chicken tikka masala without being asked.

"Is there anything left of the library in Alexandria?" Percy said.

Bill looked up, surprised he hadn't thought of it. "Not of the ancient library, no. It was completely destroyed by fire, but there is a magnificent city library. The Egyptian Ministry's archives are there. I've been there several times to research a site." If he was going to take Ginny flying for her birthday, he could take Percy to Alexandria.

"What about the sea?" Fred said.

"Or sailing down the Nile? We saw those boats when we were in Thebes."

"They're called feluccas, Ron. If you want to sail, you are more than welcome to go one day this week without me."

"Well, let's go to the coast, then."

"Or a desert safari!" George said.

"Not in August, idiot." Bill, Charlie, and Percy spoke at the same time.

Charlie and Percy grinned at each other, then at Bill, and he allowed himself a small smile. It was hard to stay angry with Charlie.

"Won't it still be hot at the coast?"

"Not that kind of hot, George. Besides, you can swim to cool off. What about this weekend? Has Mum said anything about her plans?"

Five shrugs.

"It wouldn't kill you to listen to her occasionally, you know."

"Was that the Floo? I'll go check." Fred pushed back from the table.

"I think I left my wand on the floor." George followed him.

"Yeah, me too!" Ron scrambled after the twins.

Bill glanced out the doorway and scowled. "Sometimes I wonder if those three will ever grow up. Mum will go spare if Fred and George don't take their O.W.L.s at least semi- seriously."

"Oh, I think they'll do all right," Percy said, throwing his empty chicken korma carton on the stack. "They were smart enough to leave us with the clearing up. Twenty- two days. . . ."

"My point exactly. Irresponsible and self— "

"Do you have your wand, Perce?" Charlie said.

Bill sighed. There wasn't any point whinging without an audience.

"Of course."

Charlie waved his hand over the table littered with takeaway containers, wadded- up serviettes, empty drink bottles, and scattered grains of rice. "Give it a go."

Percy's eyes widened, and he looked to Bill for approval. Percy was still three weeks shy of his seventeenth birthday, the legal age in Britain for performing magic outside of school.

"What, you think the Ministry of Magic is monitoring my flat two thousand miles away? Live life dangerously, Perce."

″It's still against the rules."

Bill watched the emotions play on Percy's face, the fear and the temptation, the responsibility and the longing. Bill had forgotten how much fun it was to taunt Percy like this. Percy looked from the messy table to the open doorway, where the Exploding Snap had resumed, and then with two quick spells the table was clean.

"Brilliant. Let's show those three how it's done, shall we?"

* * *

a/n: Next week: Bill finds out What Happened To Ginny. Well, sort of; Ron's his primary source of information ;)

Thank you to everyone who is following this story, and especially those who have reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: If, by some strange chance, you have not yet read _Harry Potter and the __Chamber of Secrets_, go and do so now. Otherwise, this chapter spoils essentially every plot point in the book. Bill needed to learn What Happened To Ginny, and the only way to do so was to have Ron tell him. This is a bit redundant for you, my lovely readers, but I have done my best not to bore you :)

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Bill studied the chessboard. His bishop was demanding to move next, but he hesitated, playing out his options in his head. By sheer luck, Percy had been the last man un- singed, but Bill was determined not to be beaten twice. Satisfied he wasn't falling into a trap, he gave his bishop a nod and sat back to let Percy make his next move. Ron had won his and Charlie's game and was waiting to play the winner, but to Bill's surprise, Ron wasn't following the game. Instead, he kept darting glances from his watch to the fireplace.

"Do you want to Floo her?" Bill said.

"Floo who?" Fred and George looked up from their pile of sweets.

"Whom," Percy said absently.

"Nah, she'll just bite my head off."

That was probably true. Ginny hated to be babied, even when she needed it.

"Who will?"

"Gin- Gin."

Charlie looked up over the Quidditch section of the _Cairo Oracle_. "Why would you want to Floo- call Ginny? You just saw her yesterday."

And just like that, the room filled with tension. Charlie looked from face to face, perplexed. "Somebody want to tell me what's going on?"

The four younger boys exchanged glances, then Percy spoke. "Ginny has been having nightmares about— you know, last year— and sometimes she sneaks in to sleep with Ron."

"How did you know?" Ron said.

Percy and the twins looked uncomfortable.

"She can scream pretty loud," Percy said finally. "And our rooms at home are right above hers."

"We just didn't say anything because— "

"We didn't want to make her feel bad," Fred finished.

"We don't know about last year," Bill said, indicating himself and Charlie. "All Dad will say is that Ginny was writing in a cursed diary."

The four boys exchanged glances again.

"Dammit, somebody tell me _what the hell happened_!"

This time, Percy, Fred, and George all looked to Ron. Bill leveled a hard look at his youngest brother and Ron caved.

"It all started when we ran into the Malfoys at Flourish and Blotts last summer."

"When Dad had that fight with Lucius Malfoy?" Charlie said. So, he had got a gossip- filled letter from the twins too.

"Yeah. We didn't know it at the time— even Ginny didn't know where it came from, but Malfoy slipped a diary in with her school books. Ginny started writing in it, and it wrote back to her."

"It wrote back?" Bill said sharply.

Ron nodded.

"Tell him about the Heir of Slytherin," Fred prompted.

"Harry and I had our detentions for flying the car, and he came back talking about hearing voices in the walls." Harry Potter was Ron's best friend. "No one else could hear them, but he had me and Hermione running over half the castle on Halloween. Then we get to the second- floor corridor, and Mrs. Norris is hanging by her tail from a torch bracket, and someone's written on the wall in blood."

" 'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware,' " George quoted.

"The Chamber of Secrets? But that's just a myth, a legend," Bill said. It couldn't be. . . .

"No, it's not. But you're jumping ahead."

Bill made a placating gesture and Ron continued. "Malfoy was ecstatic, threatening the Muggle- borns—"

"Although that's not the word he used," Fred said darkly.

"Lucius's son," Percy said, and Bill and Charlie nodded.

"So, we thought he had something to do with it. Dumbledore said Mrs. Norris wasn't dead—"

"Too bad. I hated that cat," Charlie said. Which said a lot about Mrs. Norris, coming from a magical zoologist.

"She was just Petrified. Hermione got Professor Binns to tell us about the Chamber and the monster and all that stupid pureblood stuff that Salazar Slytherin believed, and—" Ron glanced at Percy.

"Do go on, Ron. I'm as curious as everyone else how you and Harry figured this out."

"Well, we decided we needed a way to sneak into the Slytherin common room to find out what Malfoy was up to, and Hermione came up with the idea of brewing Polyjuice Potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

"Wait a minute— three _second- years _brewed Polyjuice Potion in secret? You successfully turned yourselves into someone else?" Bill said.

Ron grinned. "Told you she was brilliant."

"Who's Moaning Myrtle?" Charlie said.

"She's a ghost who haunts the girls' bathroom on the second floor."

"That's why you were coming out of the girls' loo! For a minute, I thought—" Percy broke off.

Fred and George sniggered.

"Not yet, at least," Fred said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Percy said hastily, readjusting his glasses. "It doesn't mean anything. What happened with the Polyjuice Potion?"

"It takes weeks and weeks to brew, and in the meantime, there was the dueling club, and we found out Harry is a Parselmouth."

"Harry can talk to snakes?"

"Ron, that was Salazar Slytherin's trademark—" Bill began.

"Harry's not a dark wizard," Ron said hotly. "He hates dark magic, and he hates You- Know- Who! He killed Harry's parents, and he's tried to kill Harry three times now."

Bill studied Ron closely. He was angry; angry enough that he wasn't backing down, which meant he believed what he said without reservation. "All right, Ron. But I'm guessing the rest of the school wasn't so easily convinced."

"Took to calling him the Heir of Slytherin, they did," Fred said. "Whispered behind his back and ran away from him in the corridors."

"Well, it didn't help that he kept turning up every time," Percy said.

"He did not. Harry was in the Hospital Wing when Colin was Petrified, and on the Quidditch pitch when— when—"

"When Hermione and Penelope were Petrified," George said with surprising gentleness.

"Yeah." Ron looked miserable.

"Penelope? Your Penelope?" Bill asked Percy.

He nodded. "After the mandrake potion, she told me that she had run into Hermione on her way back from the library, and Hermione told her the monster was—"

"A basilisk."

Everyone turned to Charlie.

"What? A monster that petrifies its victims and can only be heard by a Parselmouth? It's obvious. I bet Hagrid had roosters missing too."

"Yeah, he did." Ron sounded awed at Charlie's expertise.

"I don't understand," Bill said. "What does Ginny and the diary have to do with all of this?"

"Well, we didn't know about Ginny and the diary until the very end, so it didn't make sense to us, either. We took the Polyjuice on Christmas night. It ended up being just me and Harry," Ron's lips twitched but he continued, "and we found out it wasn't Malfoy, and Malfoy had no idea who it was. Then Harry found a diary in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom— she said someone had thrown it down the toilet at her— but it was blank. Then on Valentine's Day—" Ron couldn't control his laughter this time, and to Bill's surprise, the twins joined in. Even Percy was smiling.

"What's so funny?"

"Ginny sent Harry a singing Valentine," Percy said.

Ron doubled over. "A d- d- dw- dwarf," he gasped. "A valentine sung by a dw- dwarf!"

Charlie and Bill started to laugh too.

"And I don't know who was more embarrassed, Harry or Ginny," Percy said.

"Anyway—" Ron wiped his streaming eyes— "Harry's bag spilled when the dwarf tackled him, and— and—" He took a deep breath— "Ink got all over everything, but there was none in the diary. Harry figured out how to work it, and Tom Riddle— that's whose diary it was— showed him how he discovered Hagrid with the monster that opened the Chamber the last time."

"The last time?"

Ron nodded.

"No way," Charlie said. "Hagrid wouldn't hurt a fly."

"He wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose, but he does have a liking for monsters. Remember Norbert? Harry didn't think it was Hagrid, either, but he had been expelled, and then nothing happened for ages until the Hufflepuff match was cancelled. Oh, I forgot— Ginny stole the diary back from Harry, but we didn't know it was her. The night Hermione and Penelope were Petrified, Hagrid was taken to Azkaban—"

"They took Hagrid to Azkaban?" Charlie said indignantly.

″You need to read more than the Quidditch section,″ Bill said.

"Yeah. Fudge came for him himself, said he didn't have a choice. And the last thing Hagrid said— we were there, under Harry's Invisibility Cloak—"

"Harry has an Invisibility Cloak?" Bill said, skipping over the absurdity of the Minister of Magic arresting Hogwarts's gamekeeper.

Ron grinned again. "It was his dad's. Dumbledore gave it back to him Christmas of first year. Cool, huh?"

"Very cool," Bill agreed. "So, you were in Hagrid's cabin. . . ."

"And Hagrid said if someone wanted to know what was going on, they should follow the spiders."

"Follow the spiders?" Charlie repeated. "But spiders flee from a basilisk. Why—"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Because Hagrid has a pet Acromantula named Aragog. That's the monster Harry saw with Hagrid in the diary. Since we didn't have any better ideas, and Hermione was in the Hospital Wing, we went to talk to Aragog."

"You went looking for a giant spider?" Fred said. "You hate spiders!"

"Dumbledore had been sacked, and we had to do something. Hermione was Petrified."

Percy caught Bill's eye. So, Ron had faced his biggest fear— literally— because of this Hermione girl, huh?

"Damn, Ron," Charlie said. "That takes guts, even if you're not afraid of spiders."

"Well, I wouldn't do it again." He shuddered, looking pale.

Over Ron's head, Percy mouthed "Hermione," and he and Bill smirked.

"Aragog said he wasn't the monster that opened the Chamber of Secrets, but he refused to tell us what it was. He said Hagrid was expelled after a girl was killed in a bathroom, and Harry put that together—"

"Don't tell me it was Moaning Myrtle," Percy said.

"Uh- huh. We gave Lockhart the slip and went to visit her, but McGonagall found us—"

"Uh- oh," Fred and George said together. They had been following Ron's story with rapt interest. Apparently, he hadn't told anyone the whole thing before tonight.

Ron shook his head. "Harry was brilliant. He's really a very good liar."

Ron said this as if lying were a valued trait in one's best friend. Although, if you were going to run round the school in an Invisibility Cloak and sneak out of bounds to visit monsters in the Forbidden Forest, perhaps it was.

"Harry said we were on our way to visit Hermione since we hadn't been allowed to see her with all the security measures. Then we had to go see her, instead of Myrtle, but it worked out okay because Harry found a piece of paper wadded in Hermione's hand that told about the basilisk. We ran down to the staff room to tell McGonagall, but then—" Ron swallowed and tried again. "That's when—"

"Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets."

Bill and Charlie gaped at Percy.

"_Ginny_?"

"Into the Chamber?"

"But she's pureblood!"

"But _why_?" Bill felt months of frustration coming to the surface. "This is all fascinating, Ron, but what the hell does any of it have to do with—"

"It was her. Ginny. She opened the Chamber."

Bill's mind went blank. Absolutely empty, and Ron's voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Like when Bill and Charlie used to eavesdrop on conversations through the Burrow's vents.

"The diary was more than a diary, and Tom Riddle isn't just some old Hogwarts student. He's You- Know- Who, Bill. Ginny was possessed by You- Know- Who, and he used her to open the Chamber and let the Basilisk out and attack all those people. Then he got strong enough to come out of the diary, and he took Ginny into the Chamber."

He _came out of the diary_? That wasn't just a curse, that sounded like a— a—

Bill stood abruptly. The chessboard went flying, pieces screaming. Ron, sitting on the floor beside the twins, flinched and ducked, but Bill paid no attention.

"And none of you thought to tell me? _I'm_ the curse breaker, _I'm _the one who makes a living destroying cursed objects, _I'm _the one who works with dark magic damn near every day! _I'm _the one who can actually_ help_ her, and everyone has been stonewalling me for TWO BLOODY MONTHS!" When no one responded, Bill picked up the fallen chessboard and slammed it on the table, making a loud_ crack_. The boys jumped. "Ginny had four brothers at Hogwarts— _four effing brothers_!— but none of you noticed our baby sister was possessed? I know I've been gone for a while, but I thought I had at least taught you to take care of Gin- Gin!"

Ringing silence.

Ron had drawn his knees up to his chest and was bent forward with his arms wrapped around them. Percy was staring at the floor between his feet. Even Fred and George looked shame- faced.

"It was my fault." Percy's voice was difficult to hear because he was talking into his lap. "I was the oldest. She was my responsibility."

Percy's words washed over him, and Bill stopped his pacing. How many times had he heard those words growing up? _You're the oldest, Bill. They are your responsibility. _Well he remembered the helplessness when circumstances spun events out of his control and the overwhelming sense of guilt and failure when someone got hurt as a result.

"Percy took her to Madam Pomfrey," George said. "He tried to look out for her."

"Shit, Percy, I. . . ." Bill ran a hand through his hair, pulling long strands out of the ponytail. Percy's posture radiated defeat, and Ron, who wouldn't meet his gaze, looked petrified.

Oh, bloody hell. Bill closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. His kid brother wasn't Petrified, but several others had been, including one of Ron's best friends and Percy's girlfriend. And it was all because of his baby sister?

_No._ Bill remembered the first thing Ron had said. _It's all because of Malfoy, that slimy, slithering—_

"Come to think of it," Bill said in as normal a voice as possible, "why did none of you write me that Ron was best friends with a Parselmouth?"

"Because we knew Harry wasn't the Heir of Slytherin," Fred said. "You've never met him, you wouldn't know, but the idea is—"

"Preposterous," George said.

Bill clenched his jaw. No, he had never met Harry Potter. Perhaps he should change that.

"We owe him," Ron said simply. "He saved Ginny's life."

Bill frowned and sat back down. "What do you mean?"

"After Ginny was taken, Professor McGonagall had all the students return to their common rooms. We waited for a while, and then I decided we should go tell Lockhart— the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher— about the Basilisk and where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was. But he was packing—"

"Gilderoy Lockhart?" Bill said incredulously. "The author?"

Fred snorted. "The fraud."

"You four are seriously lacking in letter- writing skills."

"What do you mean, he was packing?" Charlie said.

"He was leaving Hogwarts. He was supposed to be going after Ginny, but he was running." Ron's hands were clenched into fists. "Then he started to do a Memory Charm on me and Harry, but Harry disarmed him—"

"Harry disarmed a fully qualified wizard?"

"He's really good at it. And we made Lockhart come into the Chamber with us, but he got the drop on me, and— well, you've seen my wand. The spell backfired, and part of the ceiling collapsed, and Harry and I were separated by a rock wall. So, Harry went into the Chamber of Secrets by himself and fought You- Know- Who and the Basilisk with Gryffindor's sword."

"Gryffindor's sword? Where did he get Gryffindor's sword?" Percy asked.

"He pulled it out of the Sorting Hat. Dumbledore's phoenix brought him the Sorting Hat."

"Fawkes?" Charlie said in wonder. "Harry must have said something really good about Dumbledore to have called Fawkes to him."

"He said Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world."

"Harry pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat? Why didn't you just say so?" Bill said.

Ron wrinkled his forehead.

"There is no way the Heir of Slytherin could have pulled Gryffindor's sword out of the hat, Ron."

"Told you," Fred said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Bill stepped over and around the sleeping bodies on his sitting room floor and closed the door quietly behind him. It was still early, but he couldn't sleep. Late last night— just a few hours ago— Ron had finally told what happened to Ginny.

You- Know- Who and the Chamber of Secrets.

Bill laced up his running shoes and started off at a jog, too agitated to warm up.

The Chamber of Secrets! It had been a prank, a lark. He had told his brothers the legend in response to Ron begging for a story the night before Bill left for his sixth year. He left Fred and George in their room, still excitedly discussing the monster, then carried Ron upstairs under one arm and tossed him into bed. He thought Percy had stopped off at the bathroom, but when Bill returned, Percy, who was starting at Hogwarts the next day, was spreading a blanket in what little floor space remained between Bill's and Charlie's beds. It was a laugh, scaring them all with a tale of a hidden chamber and an unknown monster, but there wasn't anything funny about Ron's version.

Bill turned a corner and sped up. A fortnight. It had taken him a full fortnight to get Ron to open up. Bill's family would be here for another three weeks, but today was his last day of holiday. He would have to find a way to spend some extra time with Ginny. The idea of her returning to England without him having a chance to debrief her was intolerable.

She had come out of her shell a bit to explore the tombs and other ancient sites, but it had taken a lot more brotherly goading than usual. It wasn't until Percy (Percy!) had accused her of being a Hufflepuff that Ginny shrugged off their mother's protective arm. And she _was_ afraid of the dark. Despite the insult, she had stuck to Percy like flobberworm mucus; he had been carrying the torch.

Bill lengthened his stride, already feeling the calming effects of exercise and fresh air. Ron said Dumbledore's response had been to send Ginny to the Hospital Wing for bed rest and hot chocolate. As if she had read a horror story, not lived one. Mum and Dad were pretending nothing about Ginny was different. Percy, Fred, and George were ignoring her nightmares because they didn't want to make her feel bad. Only Ron was actually doing something; only Ron, in his own clumsy way, was giving her permission to seek comfort and reassurance.

That was going to change.

Bill had to _do _something. Something practical, something concrete, something helpful. Whatever they said, Mum and Dad hadn't planned a second trip to Egypt because they loved the desert in summer. They hadn't just brought Ginny and Ron to Egypt; they had brought them to Bill, and he had to find a way to counteract the lingering effects of such powerful dark magic.

The Muggles' morning call to prayer echoed over the city as the first rays of dawn penetrated the gloom. There was the Spell Damage ward at Imhotep Hospital in Alexandria, but Ginny wasn't in any immediate danger. His supervisor spent a few nights sleeping alone under the stars after a bad site. Amy preferred company and water; they'd had a great weekend in Port Said shortly after they had started dating last autumn. Bill usually buried himself in the library to determine where he went wrong and increased his runs to twice a day. Back in training, when someone got rattled badly enough to affect their magic, the goblins had simply taken them down a few levels and given them easier assignments until their performance improved.

He dodged a scattering of broken glass. Ginny was strong and smart. If he could smuggle her into the curse breaker's training course and go through a few lessons with her, help her confront her fear of the dark, that could boost her confidence and help her recover. Dark magic preyed on fear and ignorance, and you couldn't shake the effects by disregarding them. He knew that from experience.

One thing still bothered him, though. How was it that Ginny had been so apparently invisible? She was bright, friendly, and funny and had always been popular with their cousins and even the other kids she met on Platform Nine and Three Quarters every year. All right, he supposed writing in a diary was a girl thing, but. . . .

Shit. Bill stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, breathing hard. His little sister was a _girl_. A girl with no female cousins, with six brothers who generally regarded anything girlish as sissy and stupid. A girl who loved Quidditch, who fought like a boy, who went to school with secondhand everything. As much as his brothers hated it, he knew clothes mattered a lot more to girls. Damn. Why hadn't he thought of this last year?

Bill checked for traffic and crossed the street, resuming his run. He didn't know what the other first- year girls had thought of Ginny, but he could guess what she thought of them. Silly, vapid, boring, giggly things, from his memory of first year. He gave a slight shudder. He still wasn't particularly fond of first- and second- year girls (except for Gin- Gin, of course). He was planning on taking her flying for her birthday next week, but maybe he could do something more. Something . . . feminine. What were twelve- year- old girls into, anyway?

He needed to talk to Amy.

()()()()

Amy shifted backward into the warmth of the wizard lying behind her. Someone was calling her name.

"Amy! Come answer the Floo!"

Amy moaned a little and wondered why Bill was yelling about the Floo when he was right here. . . . Her outstretched arm hit empty mattress, and Amy opened her eyes.

"Amy Green! If you don't get your lovely arse in here in the next ten seconds, I'm Apparating over!"

He could try. In a fit of pique after yesterday's closet incident, Amy had changed the wards on her apartment. And while the idea of Bill Weasley in pieces certainly had its appeal, those pieces would be scattered in front of her front door, and she would be the one who had to clean up the mess. Not to mention Obliviate her Muggle neighbors.

"Hang on, I'm coming!" Amy threw back the covers (she always slept with a blanket, even in the heat of an Egyptian summer), pulled her robe from its hook on her open closet door, and snatched a scrunchie from the top of her dresser. She shrugged into the robe, finger- combed her hair into a bun, and twisted the elasticized fabric around it as she walked into the living room. Wrapping the robe loosely around her bare legs, she dropped onto the floor in front of the small corner fireplace, where Bill's head floated in emerald- green flames, unperturbed by the sparks dancing around his ears.

"What?"

"I need you to do me a favor."

Big surprise. "What?"

"Do something with Ginny today."

"What?"

"Ginny. I was hoping you would take her out today, go shopping or curl your hair or whatever girls do on their days off."

She had been planning on sleeping in and eating a pint of ice cream without getting dressed. Maybe a fresh pair of pajamas before dinner.

"I've had the boys all weekend, but Ginny has been by herself with Mum and Dad. Please?" Bill batted his lashes, looking ridiculous.

"She doesn't like me."

"Don't be stupid. Of course she does."

No, she didn't. Amy's intuition told her so, but it was also telling her Bill wouldn't understand. She tried a more rational approach. "What makes you think she even wants to hang out with me?"

"I just thought she might like a witch's company for a change. Other than Mum, I mean."

Amy sighed, remembering her relationship with her mom at twelve. She definitely would have preferred a day out with a grown- up she didn't like to a day in with her mom. "You ask her, and if she wants to come over, I'm game." Bill opened his mouth. "I'm serious, Bill, I'm not going over to your parents' and inviting myself to take their daughter for a day. If Ginny wants to come, bring her on over. And don't try to Apparate."

()()()()

"Hey, Ginny." The girl looked at her strangely but muttered a sullen hello and slunk into the room. Amy looked at Bill, still standing in the hallway.

"Please, Amy."

He was serious, not flirty or teasing, and his eyes didn't stray down her robe, which was securely tied this time. Amy wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"She had a rough year. I just found out the details from Ron last night, and I think some attention from another witch would help her. She's always been with boys, and I think she had a hard time fitting in."

Amy looked over at the young witch, who was bent forward examining the TV and VCR, and her heart softened. She remembered the anxieties of her first year at boarding school and she'd been fourteen.

"I talked Mum into letting her spend the night. I'll pick her up in the morning so you won't be late for work."

"Don't bother. I already called in."

Bill looked surprised. "You didn't have— I mean, I didn't mean for you to miss work."

"It's no big deal. I was scheduled to do inventory with Sicktooth, but I volunteered you instead." Amy smiled sweetly, anticipating Bill's protest, but he just nodded.

"If you like. I'll come get her anyway."

"Now who's being stupid? She's twelve years old, Bill. I'm sure she knows how to Floo. Besides, we won't want to get up that early."

"Eleven." Bill hesitated, looking from his sister to Amy and back again.

"I'll be twelve next Wednesday!"

Seriously? No wonder the girl had had trouble fitting in if she was this sheltered. Amy began closing the door.

"Wait, take this." He handed her a slip of parchment.

"Your line of credit at Gringotts?"

Bill shifted from one foot to another and lowered his voice. "Buy her something nice, new robes or whatever witches are into right now. You know," he shrugged, a dull flush climbing up his neck, "whatever the other girls will have."

Amy stared at Bill, but he wouldn't meet her eyes, continuing to shift restlessly in her doorway. She sighed. Every time she got good and angry with him, he went and did something nice. His line of credit . . . no one in the entire wizarding _world_, much less an ancient city like Cairo, would turn down a line of credit issued to a Gringotts's employee.

"Bill, I can't take this. It's worth hundreds of galleons—"

"I can cover it. Just don't lose it," he added. "And buy yourself something too. As a thank you."

She looked at Ginny again. Her clothes were clean and neat but hardly fashionable. Amy hadn't needed to meet the rest of the Weasleys to know the family was poor. All those kids on a government salary? And if the girl had had a rough year, a little retail therapy could go a long way.

Amy nodded and made to close the door again, but Bill stopped her by placing one hand on the door and tugging on her sash with the other. She wasn't an idiot. She'd magicked that knot.

"Freshly showered is a good look on you."

"Goodbye, Bill," Amy said firmly. "Tell your brothers I said hi." And she closed the door in Bill's face. Gods, that felt good.

"This is a telly, right?"

Amy smiled. "Uh- huh. In the States we shorten 'television' to 'TV.' And that's a VCR, or videocassette recorder."

"What does it do?"

"You can record TV and play it back later, or you can play movies in it."

Ginny straightened and looked at her. "Movies? Really? Percy has always wanted to see one, ever since he learned about them in Muggle Studies."

"Really. Have you ever been to the movie theatre? We could do that today."

Ginny shook her head. "What's it like?"

"Well, they show a different movie in each room. The rooms are big, with rows of chairs and no windows, and the screen is huge, so when they turn the lights off that's all you can see. And they sell candy and popcorn and drinks at exorbitant prices, so people are always smuggling in their own."

Ginny looked back to the VCR. "Could we play a movie on that instead?"

"Sure we can." Amy hadn't missed Ginny's avoidance of most of the tombs, or her attachment to anyone with a flashlight. The girl was seriously scared of the dark.

The two witches stood feet apart, separated by awkward silence.

"I haven't eaten yet. Are you hungry?"

Ginny shrugged.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Bill says you put ice in your tea. Is that true?"

Amy grinned. She never failed to be amused by how that horrified him. "Ice and lots of sugar. Would you like to try some, or do you want something else?"

"Something else, please."

"All right. Did you bring a bag?"

"Oh!" Ginny pulled a drab green package out of her pocket. "Bill shrunk it for me."

"No problem." Amy restored the backpack to its normal size with a wave of her wand. "Come on back."

She stopped in the kitchen to pour Ginny a glass of juice and then led her into the bedroom.

"Ignore the mess. Your brother woke me up this morning, and I wanted to take a shower before you got here." She turned her back and dropped her robe. "Other than watching a movie, what else would you like to do today?"

"Whatever you had planned is fine. I'll just tag along."

Amy fastened her bra and turned to her closet, pretending not to see the curious looks Ginny was shooting in her direction. Amy didn't know about British girls, but she and her friends had been too self- conscious to stand around in their underwear when they were that age. She flipped through her shirts.

"What do you think, blue or green?" Amy turned around with two shirts in front of her.

"Oh, er—" Ginny looked surprised to be asked for an opinion. "The green one."

Just as she thought, the girl had good taste but no fashion sense. The correct answer would have been "what pants are you wearing?" Amy tossed the green shirt on the bed and returned to the closet. The silence lengthened. She heard Ginny take a drink of juice. Amy shoved her work robes out of the way and pulled out a pair of beige linen pants— no, she was wearing purple underwear, and she didn't feel like changing.

"Really, with all the magic in the world, you'd think we'd have invisible underwear by now."

Ginny choked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose, if everyone could see you?"

Amy laughed, sliding her jeans over her hips and buttoning them. "I meant invisible under clothes. I'm sure some wizard somewhere has a charm to see through clothing."

"Probably more than one of them."

So, the girl wasn't as innocent as she appeared. Well, she did have six older brothers. Amy took her hair down and dried it with a quick charm.

"You have beautiful hair." The words sounded pulled from Ginny against her will. Amy might have been wearing green, but it was Ginny who was envious.

"So do you.″

"It's ginger."

"I know. It's gorgeous. You're going to draw plenty of attention with that hair and those eyes." Ginny had rich brown eyes, almond- shaped and warm (at least when she wasn't looking at Amy).

Ginny frowned. "Boys always make fun of it."

Amy smiled and crossed to the dresser to pick out earrings. "Boys tease the girls they like. You should keep it long. It's much easier to flirt with long hair."

Ginny flushed but continued to watch her. "Is that what you're doing with my brother, just flirting?"

Amy fumbled the earring. "Excuse me?"

"You and Bill. Everyone knows you're more than friends."

Amy's mouth opened and closed. She'd underestimated the witch. "I hardly think that's any of your business.″

"It is too. Bill is my brother, and I think you're playing him."

"Do you now?"

The two witches stared coldly at each other. Amy put extra venom into hers; the irony was unbearable. And what would it be like to have someone that staunchly on your side, that they would challenge someone so much older and wiser and more experienced on your behalf? Not for the first time, she wished for siblings.

Ginny looked away. "He likes you," she said, then gave a little laugh. "Actually, I'm surprised he let me come over." She grinned mischievously. "I know loads of things he wouldn't want you to know."

Amy grinned back, the tension broken. "Like what?"

Ginny raised her brows.

Oh, Amy had definitely underestimated this witch. She tilted her head, considering. "Tell you what. I promise to tell you everything I know about kissing boys if you promise not to ask about me and Bill. Deal?"

Ginny stuck out her hand. "Deal."

()()()()

Bill opened and entered his flat quietly; his brothers were still asleep on conjured mattresses on the sitting room floor. He had gone straight to his parents' after his run and Flooed Amy from there, but the bossy witch hadn't given him a chance to say he already had permission for Ginny to visit. Mum fed him breakfast, of course, and then after a quick shower, he Side- Along Apparated Ginny to a hidden corner of the alley behind Amy's building. She lived in a Muggle American expatriate neighborhood, and Bill thought she was more homesick than she wanted to admit. And maybe more angry with him than he wanted to admit, if she had changed the wards on her flat. He usually Apparated just inside her door when they had plans.

He tossed the paper on the kitchen table and began making tea. He wanted to write to Dumbledore, Hogwarts's Headmaster, and find out who was this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was hoping the professor would agree to give Ginny some extra guidance and correspond with him during the school year. Bill had just Summoned parchment, quill, and ink when Percy came into the kitchen, striped pajamas crooked and hair tousled. About the only time you ever saw Percy looking less than distinguished was at breakfast.

"You nearly whacked me with that ink pot." Percy scowled and dropped into a chair. "What's for breakfast?"

"Help yourself."

Percy's scowl deepened. "You're not going to cook breakfast for a guest?"

"Not when he's my little brother. Tea's ready."

"You can be a real git."

"Like when the twins and Ron come visit your place, you're going to cook for them."

A slow smile crept over Percy's face at the idea and Bill grinned back. Merlin, that could be next year; this was Percy's last year at Hogwarts. It hadn't been six years ago that he had watched a skinny, freckled, bespectacled boy try on the Sorting Hat— had it?

Percy got up and began opening cupboards.

"So, seventh year. Got any big plans?"

Percy shrugged, stacking eggs, bacon, and butter on the worktop. "Revise like crazy for N.E.W.T.s. Help Dumbledore as Head Boy. Spend as much time as possible with Penelope. Not murder Fred and George. Take better care of Ginny."

Bill let the last one slide. "Sounds like a good list. What's she like?"

Percy was cracking eggs into a skillet, but he paused at Bill's question. "Penny? She's brilliant. And genuinely brilliant, of course— she's a Ravenclaw— and beautiful, with dark curly hair and blue eyes, and gentle, and kind, and— she's great."

Percy seemed to have forgotten about his breakfast. Bill interrupted his reverie with a single drawn- out word. "And?"

"And nothing," Percy said, though his ears were red. He grimaced at the dripping eggshell still in his right hand and tossed it in the bin. "She's a nice girl."

Bill grinned. Leave it to Percy. "Not so nice she won't snog in an empty classroom, I hope?"

Percy's ears were glowing now, but he laughed. "No, not that nice."

A companionable silence settled over the kitchen, and Bill worked on his letter until Percy returned to the table with a plate of bacon, fried eggs, and toast.

"Ugh, how do you eat that?" Bill's stomach turned as Percy cut into an egg with the side of his fork and yolk ran everywhere.

" 's good." He swallowed. "Who's the letter for?"

"Dumbledore. I want to know who your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be. I want to write to him about Ginny."

"Oh." Percy focused on his breakfast.

"Look, Perce." Bill twisted the quill between his fingers. "About what I said last night. . . . I don't really blame you— any of you— for what happened to Ginny. I'm sure you all tried to look after her."

"I was the oldest," Percy said stubbornly. "She was my responsibility."

"Percy, I've always been the oldest— I can't remember before Charlie was born. That kind of responsibility is a lot of pressure. I know what it's like when someone you're responsible for gets hurt. But sometimes something bad happens, and it's not your fault— you did everything you could, but it just wasn't enough. You weren't quick enough, or smart enough, or strong enough. And it sucks, it really, really does, but sometimes there's just nothing you can do."

Percy looked close to tears. "You weren't there. You didn't have to tell Fred and George, or write to Mum and Dad, or see Ronnie's face—" His voice broke.

Bill felt that horrible knot in his chest, because _he_ was the oldest, dammit, and Percy— and Ginny, and all the rest of them— were _his_ responsibility. And it didn't matter when you knew it wasn't your fault, and it didn't matter when you knew you couldn't have stopped it. You still felt responsible, and you still had that horrible knot and this awful sick feeling. Bill rounded the table and pulled Percy up by the arm. "C'mere. Come on, Perce, it's all right."

Percy had to slouch to bury his face in Bill's neck. "We thought she was dead. All day, hours and hours, just waiting for Professor McGonagall to tell us she— she was—" He took a heaving breath. "I'm sorry, Bill. I couldn't do it. I couldn't face them. Ron went after her, but I just stayed up in my dormitory."

Bill looked to the doorway to make sure everyone was still asleep, but Charlie was standing there with a questioning look on his face. Bill raised one hand behind Percy's back and made a sharp "get out" gesture. He usually wasn't that harsh with his closest brother, but Percy would be mortified if he knew Charlie had seen him crying.

"I'm going to be a better brother, I swear." Percy wasn't crying anymore, but his voice still sounded froggy, and both brothers were still holding tight.

"You are a better brother, Percy." Bill tightened his grip to the point of pain and shook Percy roughly before letting him go. "But you know the best thing you can do for Ginny this year?"

Percy shook his head and sniffed, dragging his sleeve across his nose.

"Leave her the hell alone. She can't make friends with the Head Boy breathing down her neck." Percy gave him a small smile. "Now, finish your breakfast before Mum finds out and refuses to feed me."

* * *

a/n: Next week: Amy and Ginny go shopping and talk about boys (what else?), and Bill lets Amy in on the secret. Now that the forums are back (hurray!), I can remind you that my missing moments challenge is still live and active. Just remove the spaces: http:/ forum. fanfiction. net/ topic/ 44309/ 55920858/ 1/


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Amy stepped out of the Floo, dropped her bags, and turned to help her young houseguest out of the cramped fireplace. Ginny ended up doing a sort of somersault- dive as she fell forward and turned in mid- air to keep her shopping bags off the floor. She landed on her back, head on the carpet, butt on the hearth, and feet still inside the fireplace, and both witches cackled with laughter. Somewhere between the shoe store and the drugstore, everything had become hilariously funny.

″Sorry, sorry!″ Amy tugged on Ginny's arm, but she was laughing so hard she couldn't get leverage. ″My fireplace is really too small for traveling by Floo, but I couldn't walk another step.″

They had started with an early lunch at McDonald's (Ginny chose Muggle over magical and requested someplace American) before heading to Khan al-Khalili. A couple of stores where Amy pretended to be looking for herself, constantly asking Ginny's opinion, a few casual comments about this or that looking good on the girl, and Ginny's reticence melted away. Amy gave her the choice between new uniform robes or new street clothes, and Ginny immediately opted for the latter, saying it was what everyone at Hogwarts wore outside of class. As Amy had suspected, Ginny had good taste limited only by a lack of knowledge and experience, both of which Amy happily supplied.

As far as Bill's request to "buy her whatever the other girls will have," Amy had no idea. She was from America, Ginny went to school in Scotland, and they were shopping in Egypt. Anything from the ancient magical cultures had always been popular at Amy's school, and it was a traditional souvenir, so they went to a wizarding jewelry shop to pick out a chain that Ginny liked. Amy was planning to suggest to Bill that he buy Ginny a charm with her name in hieroglyphics to wear on it. They had also purchased a wand holder for Percy (that Ginny paid for with her own money, saying she had been saving extra for Percy's seventeenth), and Amy lingered over a gorgeous pair of gold filigree earrings before realizing buying herself jewelry with Bill's money had too many connotations of permanence that didn't exist. That thought made her depressed, so they made a mid- afternoon stop for dessert, and Amy decided what she really needed was a new pair of shoes.

Ginny looked highly skeptical at the idea of shoes as a pick- me- up, but one hour and a new pair of boots later, she was a convert. Amy fell in love with a pair of peep- toe pumps in the window of the third store. They were red with a tiny black bow and very expensive. She was standing in front of the mirror admiring how long they made her legs look and trying not to imagine Bill's face when he saw the receipt when her mind suddenly wondered what his face would look like if Charlie saw her in these shoes, and she bought them on the spot. Amy and Ginny's final stop had been a Muggle drugstore where they examined every aisle, coming home with a selection of makeup, curlers, fashion magazines, and nail polish.

Ginny was still on the floor, surrounded by packages. Amy smiled down at her.

"What do you want for dinner, pizza or ice cream?"

"What's pizza?"

()()()()

Three slices of deep- dish pepperoni and mushroom later (she had walked a lot today), Amy was winding Ginny's long, silky hair around bendable curlers as Ginny flipped through a magazine.

"So, are there any cute boys at Hogwarts?"

Ginny shrugged. "I guess so."

"Any who've caught your eye?" She had rolled two sections of hair before Ginny answered.

"I think Harry is cute."

"What's he like?"

"He's kind of quiet and really nice. He plays Seeker for Gryffindor— we're all in Gryffindor too, it's the best house— and he's really good. Some people say he's even better than Charlie, and Charlie was recruited to play Seeker for the national team."

Really? And he chose to work with dragons instead. Interesting.

"He has really messy black hair— I don't think he even tries to comb it— and emerald- green eyes. I think he's tall, but—" the petite girl shrugged and grinned over her shoulder— "everyone is taller than I am. Even most of the girls."

Amy smiled and re- rolled the section that was loosened by Ginny's movement. "He does sound cute. What's his last name?"

"Why?" Ginny said suspiciously.

"Well, there's no point crushing on a boy whose last name doesn't mesh with yours, or whose initials turn yours into something ridiculous.″

Ginny blushed. "It's Potter."

Amy dropped the rattail comb she was using to separate Ginny's hair. "_The_ Harry Potter?"

She nodded. "He's Ron's best friend."

Amy did the math. She had been thirteen when He Who Must Not Be Named was defeated by a baby boy during an attack on his parents, so, yeah . . . that fit. Wow.

"What's your middle name?"

"Molly, like my mum."

"Hmm, GMP . . . no, I think GWP is better. And Ginny Potter has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

The poor girl was almost as bright as the curlers now.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't like me."

"Why the hell not? I'm sorry. . . ."

"Please. Brothers." Ginny shrugged again, apparently her favorite gesture. "I'm just his best friend's little sister. And—" She bit her lip. "I did something really stupid last year, and I got him into _loads_ of trouble. There's no way he could like me after that."

Amy steered her by the shoulders, and Ginny shifted her position on the coffee table.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

The secured curlers flopped wildly as Ginny shook her head. "No, not at all. I didn't know— I didn't mean to hurt anybody—" She swiped her hands across her cheeks.

Gods, the girl really had had a bad year. "Well, boys have crappy memories. You keep being nice to him, and he'll see what a great girl you are."

"You think so?"

"Sure."

"No, I mean—"

Ah. Amy leaned around so Ginny could see her face. "What's not to like about you?"

"I get on better with boys than with girls. I know you only did this because Bill asked you to."

Amy sighed. Dumb boys and their clumsy attempts to fix things. "I took you clothes shopping because Bill asked me to, but I called in to work before he told me you were spending the night. I spent the whole day with you because I like you. And I don't curl hair for just anyone."

Ginny turned slightly, studied Amy's face for a moment, and then returned to her magazine. "Libby wanted to curl my hair last year, but I wouldn't let her."

"Why not?"

She shrugged again. "I thought it was silly. Why do all that when I can put my hair in a ponytail in about five seconds?"

"Well, I wouldn't take this much time with my hair every day, but there's nothing silly about wanting to look beautiful, no matter what your brothers say. Libby was trying to make friends with you by sharing something she liked."

Ginny turned another page. "Will you show me how to do it, so maybe I could offer to curl hers?"

"Of course I will. There." Amy twisted the last curler into place. "Go take a look."

She ran into the bathroom and came back laughing. "I look ridiculous."

Amy grinned. "That's the fun part. Wait, let's add some lip gloss. Where's your bag from the pharmacy?"

Ginny rummaged through the bags still piled around the fireplace and emerged with a tube in each hand. "Which one?"

"Let's try both and then we'll decide which one's prettier."

They occupied themselves with makeup for a while and then Amy let Ginny roll the front of her hair.

"What if it doesn't look good in the morning?" The young witch frowned in concentration, adjusting the curlers just so.

"Then I'll brush it out and put it up. That's the great thing about long hair— that, and it helps with flirting."

This time, Ginny grinned back at her, tossing her curlers theatrically. "I'm hungry," she announced.

Amy laughed. "Me too. Pick out a movie and I'll make popcorn."

()()()()

A sharp knock echoed into the kitchen.

"Bill's here!" Ginny dropped the glass they were using to cut biscuits and ran for the living room.

Amy caught the glass before it rolled off the counter. "Don't open that door! I'm not dressed."

"Bill won't care."

No, she was sure he wouldn't. "Boys believe what they see, Ginny, not what they hear," Amy said, passing through the living room. "Remember that. Give me two seconds."

Amy pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and added a bra under her shirt. Come to think of it, she should have taken her own advice and not dressed up on Saturday, but she had thought they would go out for lunch. Was part of her still trying to attract Bill's attention?

Ginny was crowding the door, but she had waited for her. Amy opened it.

There were not one, but six red- headed wizards on her doorstep, all neatly dressed with hair combed and faces shining. And they smelled _amazing_. Amy restrained the impulse to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

"Let me guess," she said, leaning against the door. "You haven't eaten yet."

"Bill said you and Ginny were probably having biscuits for breakfast," Ron said eagerly.

Amy didn't need Bill's wink to catch the joke. She opened the door wider and stepped back.

"Merlin, what happened in here?" Bill stopped dead a few feet into the room, and his brothers spread out around him.

Amy knew it was the messiest Bill had ever seen her apartment, by far. Empty Coke cans, scattered chocolate wrappers, a few stray curlers, tissue paper from Ginny's new underwear, shoes spilling out of their boxes, two bowls with kernels in the bottom, her plate of pizza crusts, most of her movie collection, and several magazines were splayed over every surface.

"I wasn't expecting company. Ginny was going to Floo home, remember?"

Bill had the good grace to look ashamed. "We'll help."

"Yes, you will. You can start with the trash. Percy, get the dishes. The rest of you, come help me in the kitchen. Wait a minute— Ron, where's that rat?"

He patted the lump in his chest pocket. "I fed him already, so he won't bother you."

Amy gave the boy a stern look. "See that he doesn't."

"I'm glad to see you decided not to get dressed." Charlie looked her up and down— slowly, deliberately, intensely— from the curls around her face (Ginny had done a good job) to her fire- engine red toenails. By the time his eyes made it back to her face, Amy was flushed and breathless and super- conscious of every inch of exposed skin.

"I— I wasn't expecting company." She even sounded breathless. She turned quickly, looking for a distraction, and it arrived in the form of the youngest Weasley brother.

"I think you look great." Ron looked surprised at his own boldness (she could just imagine Charlie's expression over her shoulder), but the genuine compliment— without the sexual heat— calmed her. Amy sent the boy a wide smile, and his blush spread from his ears to his face.

"Thank you, Ron." She leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Bill's trying to prank you. You should know that the American word for 'biscuit' is 'cookie.' "

He looked at her, startled, then a slow grin developed. This one was going to be a charmer too. "Thanks." Then Ginny came into the kitchen and he ruined it. "What happened to your hair?"

"We curled it," Amy said quickly, fanning the girl's hair across her back. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

Percy crowded in with an armful of dishes, and he had found the ice cream bowls too. "Very nice, sis." He set them in the sink and reached out to ruffle Ginny's hair.

Amy slapped his hand away. "Hey, we worked hard on that. It's not exactly comfortable to sleep with a bunch of rods all over your head, you know." She had put a Cushioning Charm on them, but the boys didn't need to know that.

Amy had to hand it to Mrs. Weasley. It seemed all her boys, as well as her daughter, knew their way around a kitchen. Fred and George had found the food and were frying eggs and bacon, and Percy was washing last night's dirty dishes. Ron was collecting cutlery, and Charlie was setting milk and juice on the table while Ginny finished cutting biscuits and slid them in the oven.

"Hey, Percy, are you legal yet?" Amy said.

"Not for another three weeks," Bill called from the living room.

There hadn't been that much trash. Amy hoped he was re- alphabetizing her movie collection. Percy sent Bill a dirty look. Amy was sure it would have been much more mild had Bill actually been able to see it.

She wedged her way between Percy and the twins. Her kitchen was barely big enough for two, much less all this testosterone. "Let's have some fun anyway, what do you say?" She smiled up at Percy and flipped her loose hair over her shoulder, ignoring the suggestive comments from Fred and George.

"Er— well— I—" He swallowed. "Okay."

"I don't have nearly enough food to feed all of you. Do you know how to conjure more?"

It was a trick question and Percy didn't disappoint. "You can't conjure food. It's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. You can increase the amount if you already have some, though."

"Can you?"

"Er . . . what about _Geminio_?"

"Even I know that's a curse, Percy," Charlie said. "Do not curse my breakfast."

"You're on the right track. It is Transfiguration magic," Amy said. "Like an Engorgement Charm where you're expanding an object's boundaries. Try it on the eggs first."

"Amy, if he ruins those, you're buying." Bill and Ginny were watching from the doorway.

"He's not going to ruin them," Amy said, but she backed toward George— she thought it was George— to give Percy more room. Shorter than all of his brothers, the twin rested his hands on her hips and his chin on her shoulder.

"Knock it off, George."

"He's all right." Actually, he would have an excellent view down her shirt from that position, but anything that annoyed Bill was all right with her today.

Amy could feel Bill's stare on both of them but didn't look at him until she felt George straighten up. Then she met Bill's eyes and raised one eyebrow. _So what? We're just friends. _She turned back to Percy and warmed her demeanor considerably.

"Perfect. Now do it again, and we'll be ready to eat."

()()()()

Breakfast had gone as smoothly as could be expected with eight people in her tiny kitchen. Amy and Bill were arguing about his ability to magically expand the space without alarming the Muggles on either side of her when Charlie performed the spell and started conjuring extra chairs. She turned to yell at him instead, but he had conjured her a throne— a gold chair complete with red cushions— and he looked so pleased with himself, she had to laugh. She placed Ginny in it, much to her delight. Both Bill and Charlie commented on Ginny's curls (without messing them up), and Amy was pleased to see Ginny remain as relaxed and talkative with her brothers as she had been the day before. But as far as Amy was concerned, the best part of breakfast was the biscuits.

Amy folded the dish towel over the biscuits and set the basket on the table at Ron's elbow. He took three for himself and, instead of passing the basket to Fred, who was sitting beside him, Ron extended it across the table to his oldest brother.

"Biscuit, Bill?" Bill's face fell at Ron's lack of disappointment, and Ron played it up. ″You weren't expecting cookies for breakfast, were you? Amy is an American witch!"

Bill's eyes shot to her immediately, and she did her very best mysterious female smile— which was superb, if she did say so. Bill had taken the biscuits, and his defeat, with his usual good humor. At least until he looked at the clock.

His oath was muffled by his last bite, and he swallowed without appearing to chew. "I was supposed to be at work fifteen minutes ago! Out, out, let's go, all of you!"

Amy and Ginny rushed around the apartment, collecting Ginny's belongings and throwing the new ones in her backpack as the boys started Flooing back to the guest cottage. Amy shrunk the bigger packages and tucked them inside too.

"Thanks for everything," Ginny said, shouldering her bag.

"You're very welcome," Amy said, hugging her. "I had a great time."

"Me too. Would you— would you like to come to my birthday party next week?″ she said shyly. ″It won't be anything fancy, just Mum's cooking and chocolate cake, but I'd like you to be there.″

"I'd love it. I'll see you then." Amy watched her disappear in a whoosh of green flame, and then she was alone.

Or not. "You're late for work."

"I know," Bill said, "but I wanted to ask you to come over tonight."

Amy sighed. "Bill—"

"I want to talk to you about Ginny, find out if she told you anything."

"She didn't." Certainly nothing worth repeating to her big brother.

"Please, Amy, I could use your help. I don't have time to tell you what happened last year, but I want to get Ginny into the Core, and I can't do it by myself."

"The curse breakers' training course? That place will eat her alive! You can't—"

But he had already stepped into the flames and disappeared.

()()()()

Amy chose her clothes carefully, pulled her hair into a plain ponytail, added tinted lip balm, and reviewed her appearance in the bathroom mirror. Nothing special: no makeup, no jewelry, no extra skin, just relaxed fit jeans and a Quidditch t- shirt. She closed her eyes, turned on the spot, and Apparated just outside Bill's door.

"It's open!"

Amy reminded herself she was only here for Ginny and entered his apartment. "Hey."

Bill looked up when she entered the kitchen. "Hi. Help yourself." He waved his hand over the table, and Amy picked up a carton of lo mien and a fresh pair of chopsticks.

"You can't live on takeout, you know."

"I had a great breakfast this morning." He grinned at her.

Amy smiled back. They were friends, right? "What's all this?"

"Research." He marked his place and closed what looked like a dark magic textbook, stacking his notes on top of it. "I can't tell you the whole story, not because I don't trust you, but because it's really not my place to tell."

Amy nodded.

"Ginny was writing in a cursed diary last year. It got dropped in with her schoolbooks without anyone knowing, and she didn't realize what it was. I don't know what the curse was, exactly, but the diary wrote back to her, and she had some periods of time where she didn't know what she was doing."

"What do you mean?"

Bill hesitated. "Like the owner of the diary was controlling her actions."

Amy set down the lo mien. "Bill, that's more than a curse. That sounds like a—"

"Don't say it." He scrubbed his hands over his face, then sighed. "You think it sounds like one too?"

"If she has memory loss and unexplained activities? Yeah, I do. Those are signs of possession. And it wrote back to her intelligently?"

"Apparently. I've been trying to figure out what would destroy it."

Amy frowned, picking up the noodles again. "Ginny still has it?"

"No. At least, I don't think so." He looked startled, as if he'd just now considered the location of the diary. "But I can't imagine Dumbledore— the headmaster— letting her keep it. Dad said it was destroyed, but he won't tell me anything. He's treating me like a child." Bill toyed with his chopsticks, standing them on end and letting them fall, over and over.

"I know they're really difficult to destroy. It takes more than the usual magical means."

He let the chopsticks fall twice, then three times, before he spoke. "Do you think basilisk venom would do it?"

"Basilisk—" She dropped her next bite, then swallowed and tried again. "I think basilisk venom would destroy anything except a basilisk. But where on earth are you going to get that?"

"I shouldn't have to. I don't think Dad would lie to me about the diary being destroyed. I just want to be certain it is _permanently _destroyed."

"You said something yesterday morning about Ron telling you what happened?"

He nodded, still standing the chopsticks on end and turning them over. Bill always fiddled with whatever was in his hand. Chopsticks, a quill, her hair. . . .

"But he didn't say anything about its destruction?" Amy bit into an egg roll.

"We didn't get that far."

"Well, it would explain a lot."

"Like what?"

She poked some stray pieces of cabbage back into the roll. "I noticed at Thebes that she was afraid of the dark, and I thought it was weird because it didn't fit what you'd told me of her. And she said something last night about getting someone into trouble and not meaning to hurt anybody."

"She's been having nightmares. Ron has been really worried about her."

"Yeah, I finally put some Dreamless Sleep potion in her drink when she wanted to start a third movie at 1:30 this morning. You're thinking about taking her into the Core and confronting the fear head- on."

"She's really smart, Amy, and talented. I want to show her there are ways to recognize and fight dark magic so she doesn't have to be scared of it."

"I think it's awesome. Who are you going to bribe? And with what?"

"It has to be Donerk. He's the goblin with universal access to the Core, and I need to make sure the rooms are set correctly and no one will interrupt us. I've already turned over everything from my last assignment, though. I'll have to use my next one as collateral."

"I don't have anything because I turned it all in anticipating inventory today, but I should get a new assignment this week." Amy Summoned a butterbeer. Goblins were greedy creatures, and to reserve the entire training center? That wouldn't come cheap. Bill needed her next bonus more than she did. Plus what she and Ginny had put on his line of credit yesterday. . . .

He dropped the chopsticks. "You don't have to do that. I mean, I wasn't asking—"

"I know you weren't. I offered. Just because I don't have siblings doesn't mean I don't know what it's like to love someone. And he'll want at least half of your cut, especially if it's sight unseen."

He tossed her a fortune cookie. "That's okay. She's my baby sister."

Amy smiled. "She idolizes you."

Bill made an awkward motion that was half shrug, half squirm. "What does it say?"

Amy squinted at the script. Her ancient Egyptian was much better than her Arabic.

"Don't be afraid to take a big— something about two and small." She held out the slip of paper.

" 'Don't be afraid to take a big step. You can't cross a chasm in two small jumps.' " He broke open his own cookie. "Nice. 'Romance could divert your attention from money matters today.' "

Amy stood up. "That's my cue."

"Don't go. Please? Play a game of chess with me."

Amy sighed. She really shouldn't. The longer she stayed, the more likely she was to— well, stay. "But I suck at chess."

"I know. I haven't beaten anyone all weekend. Percy has been playing Ron and he's excellent."

Amy didn't miss the pride in his voice, and a reluctant smile tugged the corners of her mouth. "One game.″

"Best two out of three," he countered.

Her stomach dropped, and she watched Bill's blue eyes darken. He remembered too. The last time he had suggested two out of three, they'd been playing strip chess, and— then they hadn't. She broke eye contact.

"Just chess, Amy."

It was a bad idea; she knew it was a bad idea. She should just take her wand and go home.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer #1: **I debated about whether to rate this story "teen" or "mature," but when I reviewed it closely, there were really only two scenes I worried were pushing the boundaries, and one of them is in this chapter. It's actually more of a paragraph than a scene, so if that's not your thing, skip it. You'll know when to stop reading; pick back up at "someone swore."

**Disclaimer #2: **Because I haven't said it before: The Weasleys and the plot of _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ (AKA chapter 5) belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Bill watched his knight drag Amy's fifth pawn off the board, kicking and screaming. He had forgotten about that game of strip chess until he said it, and now it was all he could think about. Amy in tight jeans and a pink bra. Amy in striped knickers and a pink bra, long legs folded in front of her. Amy out of the—

"It's your move."

He smirked.

"For the game," she added quickly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It's your turn to play."

The faintest tinge of pink stained her cheeks. Amy was always so sure of herself that it was unusual to see her fidgety and uncomfortable, which made it hard to resist teasing her. Bill thought her confidence was one of the sexiest things about her. But she had said he should keep his hands to himself, and damned if he would be the one to give in this game, this _other_ game. He played, ignoring the vigorous protests of his chessmen. He could have won several moves ago if he had tried (Amy really did suck at chess), but where was the fun in that?

She studied the chessboard and he studied her. She had obviously dressed not to impress (he had heard what she said to Ginny this morning through the door), but he had been right when he told his brothers that Amy looked hot in anything. Even baggy jeans and a boy's t- shirt. She was beautiful, and she had a smile and a warmth that drew people to her. He had liked her immediately, and they were just friends for a while, right up until that afternoon in the columned chamber of KV5.

Bill scowled. She was twirling her finger over her rook, round and round, up and over, but not touching it. He hated when she did that, but until she touched the chess piece, she didn't have to move it. She finally made contact and moved it left. Bill moved a pawn where it could be easily captured and sat back to study her some more.

Beauty, warmth, generosity. . . . He couldn't believe she had offered her next bonus for the bribe, just like that. And what exactly had she meant about knowing what it was like to love someone? She didn't mean him . . . did she?

Amy nudged him with her foot. "Pay attention."

He moved a piece at random, ignoring the ensuing chaos on the board. Of course she wasn't in love with him. Charlie was full of it. Bill had been perfectly clear the last time he had invited Amy to spend the night that their sleeping together— again— didn't change anything. It was convenient, that was all. Why go looking for another partner when they liked each other out of bed and were good together in it? Amy had sat on the edge of his bed calmly buttoning her shirt, said she knew that already and she would see him at work, and left. Witches in love cried and screamed and threw fits when you didn't cooperate, they didn't toss your socks in the laundry on their way out the door.

Bill returned his attention to her. She was frowning at the board with that adorable crinkle to her nose that appeared whenever she focused on something. She had been wearing pink last time, and the edge of a white strap had peeked out from her shirt this morning, but what kind of bra was she wearing now? He assumed she had pulled her hair into a ponytail to keep his hands out of it, but it left her neck exposed. Amy made the sexiest sound when he kissed her neck, sort of a—

"Bill?"

He dragged his eyes up to hers, and for the first time since this game— the chess game— had started, she met his gaze. And he broke out in a sweat. Merlin, how did she do that? She wasn't even flirting, just watching him with those wide, dark eyes.

Okay, maybe he would be the one to give first.

()()()()

She'd made it through the game. A horribly unnerving game during which Bill had watched her with unusual concentration. She'd almost made it to her purse, had stood up and was reaching out for it, when she stepped on a stray chess piece, which was rather painful with bare feet. And he had rushed over, and she had insisted she was fine, and then they had both moved to pick it up, and their hands brushed. And their eyes connected, and Bill dropped the rook or bishop or whatever it was and wove his fingers through hers, and all Amy wanted was one more time. One more time to hold him close, one more time to feel his touch, one more time to say goodbye. So when Bill tugged on her hand, she didn't resist, and they tumbled backward into the space in front of the couch.

Gods, he kissed like a dream. Warm and soft and slow, and one hand was pulling the elastic in her hair, and one hand was sliding down her spine, and she was melting. Melting into that sweet oblivion where nothing else mattered, nothing else even existed, and Amy closed her eyes and poured everything she had into this one kiss, this one time. He drew his hand back up her spine, dragging her shirt with it, and she sat up and raised her arms. He pulled it over her head, then removed her bra. She shook out her hair, feeling the silky mass slide across her back and upper arms, and then she leaned forward again, into his hands, against his mouth, and he rolled, pinning her beneath him. She shifted, letting his body settle against hers, and suddenly warm and soft and slow was not enough. He was kissing his way down her neck, and she whimpered, fisting his shirt in both hands and tugging hard because she wanted _skin_. Skin under her hands, and skin against hers, and finally he shrugged the shirt off and returned to her neck, and lower, and she threaded one hand into his long hair, holding him against her breast, and the other stroked up and down the muscles of his back. She drew one knee up and arched, seeking pressure, and—

Someone swore, low and angry. Someone who wasn't Bill.

Amy's eyes snapped opened as Charlie turned around. _No. _No, no, no, she'd never been caught with a boy, not even at school, and for it to be now— tonight—

"No. No, please—" Amy pushed against Bill's shoulders and tried to wiggle out from underneath his weight.

"For Godric's sake, Bill, let her go," Charlie snarled.

Amy didn't have the courage to see if Charlie's back was still turned. She was scrambling for cover, but both their shirts were across the room, and now that Bill had moved she was exposed, and there wasn't an afghan or a rug or a freaking throw pillow to hide behind, and _Merlin_, how had she let this happen?

()()()()

Bill wanted to punch something. The wall, his brother, anything would do. "Amy, I'm sorry. I didn't hear him come in, I swear."

She was kneeling on the floor, jerking his shirt over her head, but she hadn't taken the time to straighten it out and her head was caught in the sleeve.

"Here, let me help—"

She swung wildly. "No! Don't touch me!"

Shit. She was crying.

"Amy, please, let me—"

"No." She had got the shirt over her head. "Just leave me alone." One arm, then two, and she pulled it down her torso and flipped her hair out.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't—"

"Shut up, Bill, just shut up!" Tears were still falling as she snatched her bra from the corner of the table. She shoved it in her handbag, then inexplicably turned the bag upside down and shook it, rifling through the contents with shaking hands. "I want my key."

"What?"

"My key. Your key to my apartment. I want it back."

He felt sick— not like this, she could not end it like this. "Amy, please—"

"Just get me the damn key!"

She was wrestling with her own keys now, pulling the key and ring in opposite directions, but when Charlie stepped forward to take it from her, she smacked his hand away.

"Wand, dammit, where's my wand?"

Her loose hair was falling in her face, and she kept trying to shake it back, but strands stuck to her wet cheeks. Her wand was in the pile of receipts and tissues and girly stuff in front of her, but neither Bill nor Charlie pointed this out.

"Where is the key, Bill?"

Charlie's quiet question drew Bill's attention away from Amy, and he went to his bedroom to get her key off his ring. He hardly needed a Muggle key to enter her flat— he was a bloody curse breaker— but they had swapped keys before they had started sleeping together and kept them after they had broken up. Those keys were a symbol of their friendship, minus the complicated part, and he didn't want to give that up. Why had he just now realized how much he didn't want to give that up?

Amy had found her wand and cut his key off with a reckless Severing Charm that nearly caught her foot, causing Charlie to jump out of the way. Bill held out her key, but instead of taking it from his hand, she Summoned it wordlessly, and something about that rubbed him the wrong way.

"Oh, now you're afraid to touch me?"

She sniffed, piling everything back in her handbag.

"Answer me, dammit!"

Amy turned, flinging that glorious mane behind her back and taking the time to peel the sticky strands off her face. "Tell me again, Bill, because I've obviously forgotten. Fill Charlie in, here." She waved her hand in Charlie's direction without looking at him. "Tell me how beautiful I am, but you don't want to be anything more than friends. How we can have sex occasionally, as long as I don't think it means something more. Tell me how you're not interested in a serious relationship right now, and if I am, I should look somewhere else. But most of all, tell me how I've been so incredibly stupid, so I can be sure to never, ever, do this again."

Somehow Bill's words sounded much worse coming out of Amy's mouth. They sounded like he didn't care about her, and that wasn't true. He just didn't want. . . .

"You've told me every other time. What's so different about this one?" Into her handbag went her hairbrush, chewing gum, a bag of makeup. "It's no big deal, it doesn't mean anything, right?" In went sunglasses, keys, and what looked like a couple of tampons. "I came over because you said you needed my help with Ginny." A stray earring, Muggle pens, the white bra. "I stayed because you said 'just chess.' " A worn Cairo street map, two bottles of potion, her purse. "I'm leaving because this isn't even friendship."

Shit. She was in love with him.

()()()()

The silence in Bill's flat swelled to painful proportions, and still he didn't look at Charlie. They both just stood there, staring at the spot where Amy had Disapparated.

"You son of a bitch." The quiet venom was worse than yelling. "You used Ginny to get her over here?"

"I did need her help."

"You couldn't have had that conversation tomorrow, at work?"

It hadn't occurred to Bill. He had wanted to spend time with Amy, to see if Ginny said anything to her about last year, and— well, just to see her. Alone, without having to compete with his brothers for her attention. He missed her.

"You are damned lucky Amy doesn't have any brothers. Because if anybody— _anybody— _ever messes Ginny around the way you have done that witch, I'll kill him."

"I didn't know. I didn't know that was how she felt, I swear."

"Sometimes, Bill, you're so damned arrogant it makes me sick."

Charlie slammed the door behind him, but it was Lindsay's words in his sister's voice that echoed in Bill's ears.

_You can run away to Egypt if you like, Bill Weasley, but you'll still be a stuck- up, know- it- all prat who cares more about his résumé than people._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Bill thundered down the stairwell and burst through the door. Running in Cairo this late at night wasn't the safest activity but he didn't care. Arrogant, was he? If that were true, he had earned the right to be. Who earned O.W.L.s in all twelve subjects? _Outstanding_ O.W.L.s? And seven N.E.W.T.s? Who wasn't just prefect, but Head Boy? Who was accepted into Gringotts's curse breaker program the summer after Hogwarts, when everyone said you needed two years of work experience? Which of those eleven trainees, from all over the wizarding world, had been given the plum assignment in Egypt? Who had the exotic life and the cool job and a beautiful witch whenever he wanted one?

Bill crossed against the light, dodging traffic and heading for the football stadium a few blocks away.

Charlie was full of shit, Lindsay had been a silly girl with no ambition other than the tastiest piece of arm candy, and as for Amy— Bill had warned her. She said it herself, he had told her he was not interested in a serious relationship. It was why they broke up in the first place. All the expectations, and the nagging, and the responsibility. He had enough responsibilities, thank you very much. He did not need them in his love life too.

The stadium was in sight. Bill increased his speed, vaulted the gate, and attacked the stairs three at a time.

It wasn't his fault he was sexy and charming and great in bed. He hadn't asked Amy to fall in love with him. He hadn't asked Charlie for his opinion, either. What did Charlie care, anyway? He had just met the witch a fortnight ago. And he had been wrong about Bill being jealous. He wasn't jealous of his little brother. Just because Charlie flew better than anyone, and had been both prefect and Quidditch Captain, and was always popular with Bill's friends, and was a _bloody dragon keeper_, and made Amy laugh, why should he be jealous of that?

Bill slowed his pace slightly so as not to trip going down the stairs, ran along the aisle in front of a section of seating, and headed upstairs for the third time.

And he wasn't jealous of Amy, either. So she was damn good at her job, having pulled in almost as many galleons in treasure last quarter as he had, despite fewer field assignments. He could handle a little competition; it made you better, stronger, more determined. He didn't care who she dated, either. Hadn't she gone out with that bloke from the loan department last month, and some Auror she met at a club the time before that? He had told her to make sure she took her wand and some cash and to have a good time. Hell, for all he cared, Charlie could be at her flat right now—

Bill staggered up another two steps, turned, and collapsed, panting. He couldn't do it. He couldn't pretend Charlie's words didn't hurt, he couldn't pretend he didn't care about Amy, and most of all, he couldn't pretend he didn't know he was an arse. He bent forward, resting his arms on his knees and his head on his hands, controlling his breathing, trying to ease the stitch in his chest. He had known it was wrong, flirting and tempting and teasing when she was only trying to follow the boundaries that he had set in the first place. He wasn't even sure why he had done it, unless it was . . . just because he could. Amy was a beautiful, successful, desirable witch, and he had liked knowing— and liked everyone else knowing— that she wanted him.

He flung himself backwards, relishing the pain in his back and neck and head as they hit the concrete steps. Charlie had been right, all the way round. Amy was in love with Bill, he was jealous, and he was damned lucky Amy was an only child. Amy had been right too. The sex was fantastic, but that wasn't friendship. If he really cared about the brunette witch, he wouldn't take advantage of her heart. He sighed. He had been right too, when he told his brothers there was more to having a relationship with a woman than thinking she was hot. He could admit he was jealous, but what about Charlie's other accusation?

Bill shifted slightly, and every muscle in his lower body burned in protest. This was the second time in two days he had gone running without warming up, and tonight he was running full- out. He stopped moving.

No, he wasn't in love with Amy. His jealousy had more to do with the competition between brothers than it did with her. And it wasn't just Charlie. Amy had been warm and vivacious with each of his brothers, and the older, the flirtier. But Bill did like her, and he didn't want tonight's events to ruin what was left of their friendship. He closed his eyes and sighed again.

This was going to take more than charm.

()()()()

Amy pressed one eye to the peephole, then stepped back.

Charlie Weasley was standing on her doorstep.

She looked again. With— was that ice cream?

"Rocky Road or Mint Chocolate Chip?" He held up his hands like an offering.

She took both containers and headed for the kitchen. He followed and sat down at the table.

"Which do you want?"

"None for me, thanks."

Amy looked up, but he smiled and shook his head, so she served herself a scoop of each, put both cartons away, and sat down across from him. "Did Bill send you?"

Charlie snorted. "Not bloody likely. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"How did you know my favorite ice cream?" She took another bite, savoring the contrast between sweet and fresh.

He grinned, looking much more like the flirt she'd seen over the last two weeks. "I didn't. But I've yet to meet the female who turned down both."

Amy stopped with a spoonful of Rocky Road halfway to her mouth, but Charlie's smile only widened until she felt the corners of her own mouth turning up.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

Amy shrugged, watching the green and white run together in the bowl.

"It's not your fault, either," Charlie said.

Why was he being so nice? She was going to start crying again, and she'd only just gotten out of the shower. "It's not Bill's fault, either. He was always straight with me, right after the first time. It just is."

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Amy said.

"I got the impression you kept trying to break it off, but he kept pushing you.″

She made a production of scraping the last of the ice cream out of her bowl.

"What happened to the shirt?"

"What shirt?"

"Bill's shirt you wore home."

"Oh. It's gone." She had ripped it by hand (much more satisfying that way) and ignited it with her wand.

"Are you going to be okay by yourself?"

Was that a proposition? No, there was no trace of the rogue in his expression now. "It's not the first time I've cried over a wizard, Charlie, and I'm sure it won't be the last," Amy said dryly, Banishing her dish to the sink. "I'm fine. Go home."

He made no move to get up. "I didn't think you would be here, or at least there would be another witch with you."

She swallowed against the immediate rise of a lump in her throat. Gods, what wouldn't she give for a girlfriend in the flesh right now? Over a year in Egypt, and she still didn't feel like she fit in. "All my close friends are back home, and it's the middle of the work day there. Come on." Amy got up and motioned him toward the door. She couldn't hold it together for much longer, and she'd humiliated herself enough for one evening.

He followed her through the apartment but paused in the open doorway, lifting one hand to her face. "My brother is an idiot."

And then he was gone.

* * *

a/n: There have been a couple of reviewers I haven't been able to PM: thanks to Il'Diko and mykk47! For anyone who is new to my stories, or simply hasn't noticed (because life is random), I update every Wednesday :) And a special shout-out to **my beta vancabreuniter **whose favorite ice cream is-yes, Mint Chocolate Chip. I know the last couple of chapters (especially this one) have been short, but it was necessary for tension and flow, I promise. Chapter ten is over 4,000 words, so I will make it up to you. And there's still a favorite character yet to make an appearance. . . .


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Bill was sitting high in the stands, rows above the Muggle parents watching their kids playing football, when he saw someone climbing the stairs. ″How did you find me?″

Charlie sat down and propped his elbows on the bench behind them. ″It's the track nearest your flat. What is this, anyway?″

″Football. You score by putting the ball in the net, but you can't use your hands.″

Charlie watched the action on the field for a minute. ″Just one ball?″

″Just the one.″

″We missed you at dinner last night.″

″I was working.″

″So you said.″

Bill had owled his mum yesterday afternoon.

″How long are you gonna stay pissed at me?″

Bill shrugged, watching the ball disappear in a clump of wildly kicking kids. ″A while.″

″So, I was right then.″

Bill clenched his jaw, then forced himself to relax. He had already admitted to himself he had been an arrogant arse, expecting everything to go his way without considering Amy's feelings. There was no need to fight with Charlie about it a third time. ″I saw her this morning.″

″How is she?″

″Beautiful. Proud. Formal.″

″What happened?″

″We Apparated in at the same time.″

″And what happened?″

A tall boy scored. Bill sighed. ″I've had friendlier conversations with Snape.″

″She yelled at you?″

″That would have been an improvement.″

″It's only been two days. She'll come round.″

″I just hope she does so by next Wednesday.″ Several parents stood up and yelled.

″What's next Wednesday?″

Bill turned to look at his brother for the first time. ″Ginny's birthday?″

″You invited her to the party?″ Charlie sat up.

″No, Ginny did.″

″Oh, that's all right.″ He relaxed against the bleachers again. ″Amy would stand you up, but not Gin- Gin.″

″Thanks, Charlie.″

″Anytime.″

They were silent for a few minutes, watching the steady progression of the ball (and the mass of kids) down the pitch and back again.

″Mum's holding dinner for you.″

Bill opened his mouth, but Charlie cut him off.

″No, I'm not telling her you had to work again.″ He stood up. ″Let's go. I might even let you beat me at chess after.″

Bill followed him down the row. ″Let me? I could beat you blindfolded.″

Charlie threw a grin over his shoulder. ″You're on.″

()()()()

Bill pressed his hand and wand to the treasure inventory room door and it swung open. Several goblins and a few wizards were working at the tables scattered around the room, identifying, authenticating, and cataloguing the treasure brought back to the Gringotts vaults by the curse breakers. Amy was at the back table, nearly hidden by a large stack of pottery. Bill stood in front of her for long moments. When she didn't look up, he stretched his hand into her field of vision.

She jumped.

"Lunchtime."

"Already?" Amy set down a jade- encrusted urn, rubbing her neck.

She had neither sought him out nor avoided him this week. With both of them often on assignment all over Egypt, they had never managed to develop a standing date. Bill had requested desk duty to keep him in Cairo during his family's visit, but although he was in the bank every day, Amy was busy with Sicktooth, completing the inventory of her last assignment and then evaluating the Muggle artifacts from a new site near the Red Sea. He had only only spoken to her twice, once when they had arrived at the Apparition point on Wednesday morning and again during yesterday's department meeting, which was how he found out about her current assignment in inventory. She was calm and polite but completely professional; no casual touches, no special smiles. She was even dressing differently, all dark robes and pulled- back hair.

"I need a favor."

Amy picked up a small brush and began cleaning a section of stone on the urn's rim. "What kind of favor?"

Okay, not the best opening line. "I'll trade food for shopping. I need to buy Ginny's birthday present."

Her eyes flicked up, then returned to the urn. "What kind of food?"

Bill was tempted to say "anything you want," but he knew the question was a test. What kind of comfort food would Amy want after an emotional quasi- breakup and a tedious work week?

"Cheeseburger and fries?" As he hoped, his use of the American term made her smile, even if it was directed at a clay pot. And something sweet. "Maybe a milkshake?"

"No vinegar. I want ketchup. And real beef."

"Of course." The American blokes favored a pub near the river. They should be able to get good food there.

"All right." She finally set down the little brush and cast protective charms over her table.

Bill cast her a sideways glance as they made their way out of the bank. "Ginny is excited to see you on Wednesday."

"I'll be there."

He let out a breath. "Good. I thought maybe. . . ."

"I'm not going to stand your sister up because you and I are—" Amy waved her hand— "whatever. She'd be mad at both of us."

Bill opened the front door, and they descended the stairs into shimmering heat. "Any idea what she wants for her birthday?"

"Her favorite color is green, her favorite Quidditch team is the Holyhead Harpies, she wears a junior extra- small and a size 35.5 shoe, peach lipgloss looks awesome on her, and she thinks lace underwear is too scratchy. Oh, and one of you could score big- time if you took her to get her ears pierced."

He was dying to ask if that was why he had never seen Amy in lace knickers, but it wasn't exactly a friendly question. "I am not buying knickers for my baby sister."

Amy shrugged, slipping on her sunglasses. "You asked."

Gringotts and the wizarding district were situated in the southeast of the city, bordering the buildings of Old Cairo. A center of commerce for millennia, small restaurants and shops were tucked along narrow, winding lanes like the neighboring Muggle souks. They stopped for lunch first (because Amy insisted on payment before service was rendered), and then she led him into the metalworkers' stalls.

"You asked me on Sunday to buy Ginny whatever the other girls would have, but I honestly have no idea. Between the age difference and me being American and the Egyptian stores, it's too much of a culture clash. But anything with ties to the ancient wizarding cultures was always a status symbol for us, so I was thinking a charm with her name in hieroglyphics. It would be something she would have for always."

"I like the idea of something Egyptian, but I haven't seen her wear jewelry. I don't know what she would like."

Amy grinned. "We've already picked it out."

Of course they had. According to Amy, Ginny favored a simple open link gold chain. When the shop owner passed her the order form for the customization, Bill spelled Ginny's full name, but instead of copying it in English, Amy actually translated it into hieroglyphics— seven pictorial letters marching across the page. Her Arabic might leave a lot to be desired, but her Egyptian, Aramaic, and Gobbledegook were excellent. A good thing for a witch who made her living using her knowledge of indigenous Muggle cultures to expand the goblins' coffers.

"Do you have to get back right away?"

Bill glanced at his watch. "I have some time. Why?"

"I want to get my present too. Oh, don't look like that. I know exactly what I want and where to find them." She led him deeper into the market. "Ginny really liked my silk pajamas, and I thought if I got her a pair with long sleeves and pants, she could take them to school. Silk's a great insulator and much prettier than flannel."

Now those he had seen Amy in. The morning they all had breakfast together, she had paired slinky pink shorts with a cotton vest, but his favorite was her red silk nightshirt. She passed right in front of him as he held the door of the clothing shop open, but she gave no indication that she remembered closing her pajama shirts with a single button "because you're just going to undo them anyway."

Amy was as good as her word. In just a few minutes, they were exiting the shop with a pair of mint- green striped pajamas that had been wrapped in tissue paper and gift- boxed. Bill eyed the purple and green wrapping paper, trimmed with a delicate silver bow that had been charmed to flutter gracefully.

"Are you sure about that? It looks awfully girly for Ginny."

Amy frowned at him. "She is a girl. She wants so badly to fit in with all of you that I think she might have forgotten it herself. She's not another brother, you know."

Bill laid a hand on Amy's back, gently urging her forward when she veered off towards a housewares display. "She's not a girly girl, either."

"Which is why I didn't do anything pink and skipped the flowers and butterflies. Trust me."

"So, other than shopping, what did you two do last weekend?"

"Besides talk about you?"

He winced. Unfortunately, that had not occurred to him until after he had dropped Ginny off.

"Don't worry, I didn't say anything bad. She told me all about your ex- girlfriends, and I taught her how to use a tampon."

Bill made a choking sound and squeezed his eyes shut. He did not need to know that. He really didn't need to know that.

Amy's laughter rang out, and when he opened his eyes, hers were dancing. "Kidding, Bill, I'm kidding. She's only twelve."

"Eleven." That wasn't old enough for— that. Was it?

"You're going to have to say twelve in about five days."

"But not yet. Is she—″

″I don't know. She's old enough, though. I was twelve.″ Amy turned on him suddenly. ″If she is getting her period, don't you say anything to embarrass her.″

″Believe me, I won't say anything.″

Apparently, she did believe him because she began holding her handbag with one hand and digging in the open cavern with the other, not watching where she was going. Bill steered her away from a crowded juice stand.

″What did she say about Lindsay?"

"Who's Lindsay?"

Damn. Amy had been kidding about both topics. "She was my girlfriend at Hogwarts."

"Girlfriend, singular?" She emerged with a pack of gum and offered him a piece.

He took it. "She wasn't the only girl I dated at school, no."

"But something about us has caused you to be thinking about her."

Something Charlie had said, actually. And Lindsay herself. "I never apologized," he blurted. "You were right, Monday night, when you said I had not been a good friend, and I'm sorry."

Amy stopped walking and turned to look at him. Her expression was inscrutable, and Bill had to force himself to hold her gaze.

"Thank you." She resumed walking, and they exited the shade of the souk. "You know it's over, right? No more sex, no more 'benefits.' It's friendship or nothing." Her hand trembled slightly as she pulled her sunglasses off the top of her head and over her eyes again, shielding herself.

"I'll take the friendship," he said quickly, and smiled at her. "Definitely."

"All right then."

It was the first time she had really smiled all week.

()()()()

There was an owl waiting on his desk when Bill arrived back at the bank.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts post will be filled by Remus Lupin. I am certain he would be delighted to help Miss Weasley in any way he may be of assistance. I have included his address below._

_In answer to your other questions, I must insist that you speak of your suspicions to absolutely no one. Tom Riddle's diary was thoroughly destroyed when Harry Potter stabbed it with a basilisk fang. The diary was a very powerful dark object, but whatever plans Voldemort may have had for it have been foiled. Except for Miss Weasley, Mr. Ronald Weasley, and Mr. Potter (and presumably Miss Hermione Granger), no one at Hogwarts knows the full story except myself and Professor McGonagall, who, as you know, is the soul of discretion. As I assured Miss Weasley last May, there will be no repercussions against her._

_Please give my regards to your parents._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Bill folded the letter from his previous headmaster. No, he would not tell his parents that Dumbledore said hello. That would require telling them that he had written to Dumbledore, and then they would want to know why, and that would not go over well. It seemed Bill and Amy had been right. Dumbledore had been cryptic as to the nature of the curse placed on the diary (had Bill really expected anything else?), but he had specifically mentioned a basilisk fang, and Bill's research in the Gringotts's library had confirmed basilisk venom was one of the few substances that would destroy— _those_. He would describe Ginny's symptoms and let the new professor draw his own conclusions. Bill pulled ink, quill, and parchment out of his drawer and began to write.

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_We have never met, but Professor Dumbledore graciously agreed to give me your address when I expressed my wish to contact the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. My name is Bill Weasley, and you will have five of my younger siblings as your students this year: I am proud to say my brother Percy is Head Boy, Fred and George are fifteen- year- old twins (do not turn your back on them for even one second), Ron is a third year pupil, and Ginny is a second year. It is she who has prompted me to write to you._

_I am telling you this in confidence since I am sure you can appreciate my family's desire for privacy. Ginny found a diary amongst her textbooks last year. As you might imagine for a girl of her age, she wrote in it often and, when it wrote back to her, considered the diary a friend. What no one, including Ginny, knew, was that the diary was cursed. While writing in it, she experienced periods of memory loss and was not in control of her own behavior. When this came to light, the diary was destroyed with a basilisk fang. However, Ginny continues to exhibit symptoms of a close encounter with dark magic: she is having nightmares on a regular basis, she has developed a new fear of the dark, and she is much more reserved and shy than her usual outgoing personality._

_I am a curse breaker for Gringotts in Egypt, and it is my hope to have the opportunity to share with my sister some of my experience in working with cursed objects and recovering from dark magic before she returns to England (my entire family is here on holiday). However, at the moment she is_

Stubborn? Obstinate? Scared?

_determined to deal with this on her own. I would be very grateful for any extra help you could give her over the course of the school year or any suggestions you may have on how best to help her recover. I have no doubt she would be horrified and hate me forever if she ever found out I shared my concerns with one of her professors, so by all means, please don't say anything to her. She and Ron are quite close; feel free to speak to him if you like._

_Thank you very much for your consideration._

_Sincerely,_

_Bill Weasley_

()()()()

Amy leaned back against the tub and closed her eyes. She had done okay, right? She thought her lunch break with Bill had gone okay today. As well as could be expected, at least. She had neither slept with him nor hexed him, and she'd been wavering between the two extremes all week. Longer than that, really.

But gods, it hurt. He had been so careful not to touch her, standing back when he held a door for her or dropping his hand immediately when he guided her through the souk. Even when she'd offered him a piece of gum, he'd slid it out of the pack without brushing her hand at all. Like she had spattergroit or dragon pox or something. Like there was something wr—

No, she couldn't go there. She had gone there Monday night, after Charlie left, and it had been very, very bad. Wednesday morning, after that dreadful meet- up at the Apparition point, had not been much better. She had locked herself in the last stall in the witches' restroom, cast her strongest privacy charms (there was a reason she'd never been caught with a boy at school), and cried herself almost sick before her battered pride reminded her she was at work, and cosmetic charms could only hide so much.

Amy used her wand to extend the Cushioning Charm farther down the angled back of the tub. Ah, that was better.

If there was one thing she had learned this week, it was that she and Bill Weasley had never been just friends. There had always been chemistry between them, that primal pull, and it only got stronger after they had allowed their relationship to progress to the physical. She never realized how much she had taken the little smiles and the casual touches and the flirting banter for granted. And while they were annoying when she was trying, albeit feebly, to protect her heart, she missed them now they were gone. But that was what she wanted, wasn't it?

Amy sank deeper into the magically warmed water and scrunched her face up against the tears. No, what she wanted was for Bill to love her back. But he didn't, and it wasn't because there was something wrong with her, and it wasn't anybody's fault. It just _was_. And she had to figure out a way to deal with it because Ginny's birthday dinner was in five days.

Amy swiped her wet cheeks with a wetter hand and sniffed. That had been fun, teasing Bill about his sister. He obviously adored her; he cared about all of his siblings. He would be great with— She sniffed again. No, this wasn't a productive train of thought, either.

What did she hate about Bill? Surely there was something. She found the idea of fries and vinegar revolting, but you couldn't blame a guy for being raised on the other side of the Atlantic. And his handwriting was atrocious, not to mention the wizard couldn't simply hold a quill. He had to twirl it between his fingers, or tap the shaft against the ink pot, or brush the feather down her spine. . . .

Amy bent her knees and slid underwater, tipping her head back as she surfaced to smooth her hair away from her face. She was pathetic, she was. She let out a little huff that might have been laughter on a better day. Now she was talking like a Brit. Well, Bill wasn't the only British person she knew. She was bound to pick up some of the nuances of language when away from her native dialect.

Okay, she'd look at this the other way. What did she like about Bill, other than his obvious good looks and friendly charm? Amy closed her eyes. She knew why it had been so difficult to break it off, as Charlie had inadvertently reminded her when he commented that he was surprised she was alone. Bill was essentially her only friend here. She had never made friends easily, and when she had first arrived in Egypt last summer, she threw herself into her work. There had been invitations from the other Americans, from some of the British and Egyptian witches she worked with at the bank, but she had turned them all down until finally, when she felt she had a handle on her job and was ready for some fun, everyone stopped asking. But Bill had pursued her, and after they broke up, it was hard to turn him away when it meant sitting home alone. If they were going to make this friends thing work this time (and Amy knew she had to make it work), she was going to have to stretch herself. She frowned, thinking about the bulletin board in the break room. Wasn't there a weekly Arabic conversation group for employees new to the Middle East? She should find out when they met.

Amy squished the still- frothy bubbles between her hands. Living in the magical world was worth it for Aphrodite's Aromatherapy No- Burst Eterna- last Bubble Bath alone. She had no idea if the bubbles really did last forever, but they lasted longer than she'd ever wanted to be in the tub, and that was all that really mattered. She should have bought some for Ginny.

What _was_ she going to do about Ginny's birthday party? Amy would not be able to stand it if Bill flirted with her in front of his family. Then again, what if he didn't? Someone was bound to notice, and she didn't want another conversation with Ginny about Bill. Amy couldn't pretend any more, not now that she had stopped lying to herself. But she couldn't avoid him, either; that would be too obvious. Truth be told, she didn't want to go. Not with this hurt being so fresh, and all the other boys there, and Bill's parents. But she did like Ginny, and Amy had told her she would be there, and she was not going to be another wishy- washy witch. She knew without asking there was someone in Ginny's dorm who was only friendly when it was convenient. There always was in a group of girls, and after the directness of living with boys, Ginny would not have understood. Amy had no desire to hurt Ginny's feelings, not when she had worked to gain the girl's trust. So, she was going.

She sighed and closed her eyes again. She would just have to suck it up. Put on a smile, and flirt with his brothers, and be nice to Bill, and maneuver herself a seat beside Ginny. Or maybe Charlie. . . .

Amy crossed her ankles on the rim of the tub and considered that idea. How much of Charlie's flirting had been to annoy Bill, and how much of it had been sincere? That first night, when she had taken the groceries over, that had been genuine interest in his eyes. And she wasn't an idiot, she knew Bill and Charlie had talked about her. But Charlie had been showing off that day at Thebes, and she was guessing part of it had been to see if Bill was serious about just being friends. She knew that had more to do with the two of them than it did with her. But what about that Saturday she went to talk to Bill and found all the brothers asleep in the floor? And that morning at her apartment . . . plus he'd conjured the throne for her, and nobody had made him bring ice cream to her door. Most men would have run from an emotional situation like that, but Charlie had sought her out, tried to cheer her up. What was it Ginny had said? _″Most witches fawn all over Bill, but it's Charlie who is the better boyfriend. He's the sensitive one.″_

Well, she wasn't looking for a boyfriend, just a distraction. Charlie was handsome, interested, and leaving next weekend.

Perfect.

* * *

a/n: There's still six and a half weeks left in my Missing Moments Lottery Challenge if anyone is interested: http:/ forum. fanfiction. net/ topic/ 44309/ 55920858/ 1/


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Wow, did you guys have a lot to say about Amy and Charlie! I hope this chapter meets your expectations. If not, at least tell me why, okay? For those of you who asked, Ginny's birthday party is in chapter twelve.

Also, this story is getting close to 100 reviews (at least closer than any of my other fics), so I've decided to give you all a little incentive. There are three or four chapters after this; break the 100 mark, and I'll update early :D This means lurkers, you can make a difference! I promise not to bite, and if you've followed the story this far, I'd really like to hear your thoughts.

Thanks for reading :)

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_Sharm el-Sheikh, Gulf of Aqaba Coast, Sinai_

Bill looked up as a short- eared owl flew in the window of his and Charlie's hotel room. It settled on Charlie's bed with a soft hoot, and he freed the letter from its leg.

″Who is it from?″

Charlie read the letter through, then passed it to him.

_Dear Charlie,_

_I know you've had a thorough tour of the main wizarding attractions, but no trip to Egypt is truly complete without a Muggle sound and light show at one of the monuments. Tonight, seven p.m.? Consider it a thank you for the ice cream._

_Amy_

Bill passed the letter back and returned to unpacking. _What ice cream?_

″What do you think?″ Charlie said.

″About what?″

″About this.″ He rattled the parchment.

″Sounded straightforward to me.″ Everything was put away, but Bill busied himself moving things around.

Charlie was reading the note again, frowning. ″If it's such a tourist attraction, why didn't she invite all of us?″

Bill slammed his new pants and socks drawer closed. ″Has it really been that long since a witch asked you out?″

″Of course not, but— why is she asking me out when you and she. . . .″

Bill moved the blue shirt to the top of the pile and scooted the stack to the other side of the drawer. ″How the hell should I know?″

Charlie looked up from his third reading. ″Do you mind if I go?″

He shrugged, avoiding Charlie's gaze. Of course Bill minded, but what right did he have to say so? ″Do what you want.″

″That's not an answer.″

He looked across the room at his brother and sighed. ″Do you think we will ever stop liking the same witches?″

Charlie leaned back against the other dresser and grinned. ″What can I say? You have great taste.″

Bill hesitated. ″She _is_ a friend of mine. I don't care if you go tonight, but—″

″Don't worry, I'm not going to sleep with her.″ Charlie finally set down the note and unpacked by dumping the contents of his rucksack into a single drawer. ″That would make me an even bigger arse than you.″

()()()()

_Cairo_

Amy unlocked the door of her apartment and led Charlie inside. ″He did not,″ she said, laughing.

″Yes, he did. Dad stuck his head out their window and yelled 'She's here!' and Bill turned round. Ron hit him in the back and fell at his feet. Completely forgot to catch him. Explains a lot about Ron, getting dropped on his head at such an early age.″

She smacked his arm. ″Don't be mean.″ She had made a wistful comment that it must be nice to have such a big family, and Charlie had spent the last hour regaling her with stories about the hazards of life with siblings, most of which pictured Bill in a negative light. ″Have a seat. I'll get drinks.″

Ginny had been right; Charlie was good boyfriend material. He had been polite and charming, funny and interesting, teasing and flirty, toying with the line of friendship but never definitively crossing it. It was a marked change from the openly sexual behavior he'd displayed previously, and Amy wasn't sure how to take it. Maybe she had underestimated what was happening between the two brothers. But he was here, wasn't he?

″You like movies.″

″Sure, but I'm not a big movie buff. I brought them with me because they remind me of home, and of my parents. It was something we all could do together, even after we found out I was a witch.″ Amy handed him a glass of wine and curled up on one end of the sofa. She took a hasty gulp from her own glass, relieved when Charlie let the comment slide.

Charlie propped an elbow on one shelf and leaned closer to read the titles. ″Which one is your favorite?″

″ 'The Princess Bride.' ″

He searched the videos (Bill had re- alphabetized them) and pulled it out. ″Let's watch it.″

″You don't have to do that.″

″Of course I do. Percy will be insanely jealous. He's been wanting to see one for ages.″

Amy rolled her eyes and got up to put the tape in the VCR, then returned to her seat in the corner.

″Come here.″ Charlie raised one arm and beckoned her closer.

She smiled and complied, scooting next to him. He brushed her hair over her shoulder so it wasn't caught between them and wrapped his arm around her waist. Amy let herself relax against him. This was much, much better.

Buttercup went overboard. ″I should pop popcorn.″ Amy had never liked the shrieking eels.

″Don't move.″ Charlie's right hand had been playing with her hair, but now he pinned her against him, letting his hand come to rest on her lower abdomen instead of the more neutral zone of her waist. ″Is this okay?″

It wasn't until he spoke again that she realized she had tensed up. ″I like it better when you play with my hair,″ she said truthfully.

″Yeah?″ He set his half- full wineglass, which had been dangling from his other hand, on the end table and turned to face her, shifting so she was sitting up with his arm around her back. He raised his free hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, tracing its shape, then combed his fingers through the length of her hair, all the way to where the ends rested against the swell of her breast.

Amy didn't move, just traced his expression with her eyes. It was there again, the warm interest and the sexual heat. She closed her eyes and raised her face.

″I'm not my brother.″

Amy opened her eyes again. ″I know that.″

″And I'm leaving next Sunday. For Romania.″

″I know that too. It's one of the things I like about you.″ She could be honest with Charlie.

″Let me show you more,″ he murmured, twisting her hair around his wrist and pulling her that last little bit closer.

This was different. A tiny part of her had worried that kissing Charlie would remind her of Bill, but this was different, hot and insistent, almost frantic in intensity. She let her head fall back under the pressure of his mouth, and Charlie angled himself over her, deepening the kiss. Her hands were scrambling, tracing his back, his shoulders, his chest, but Charlie's were still, one hand cupping the back of her neck, the other wrapped around her body, holding her firmly against him. Long moments later, he broke the kiss, scraping her bottom lip gently with his teeth before turning his back to the sofa again and lifting her onto his lap.

Charlie seemed content to hold her, but Amy leaned forward to kiss him again. Twisting like this put a crick in her neck, and she shifted to face him directly, long legs folded on either side of his. His hands were low on her hips, thumbs tracing her hipbones, and though he let her dominate the kiss this time, there was something wild, something just barely leashed in his response. But when Amy tried to move closer, he resisted.

She sat back. ″What's the matter?″

He raised one hand, brushing her hair out of her face. ″This isn't what you really want.″

Her mouth dropped open, but before she could protest his presumption, Charlie slipped his other hand just under the waistband of both her skirt and panties, and Amy stiffened at the feel of his fingertips on her bare stomach.

He raised one eyebrow and removed his hand. ″It doesn't help.″

She crossed her arms and looked away. The movie was still playing; it sounded like the swordfight. ″What doesn't help?″

″Sleeping with someone else. It doesn't help you forget.″

He was slightly breathless, and Amy took some satisfaction in that. She looked at him again. ″That sounds like the voice of experience.″

He nodded, brown eyes warm and sympathetic.

″Then why—″ She gestured between them.

He grinned at her, and just like that, the rogue was back. ″Would you have believed me if I had told you?″

She looked up from underneath her lashes this time. ″Probably not. But you could have tried.″

″Where's the fun in that, love?″

Amy allowed herself a smile, and when her eyes met Charlie's again, she laughed. ″You,″ she said, standing up, ″are incorrigible.″

″Just one of the many things you like about me.″

″I've changed my mind.″

″Uh- huh. You said something about popcorn?″

()()()()

Ginny leaned over the railing, and Bill had to resist the urge to pull her back. He had left Gringotts at lunch and picked up Ginny to bring her here, to the training grounds of the Egyptian national Quidditch team. Her mouth had not closed once since she had seen the sign. If she wasn't chattering about the brooms or the players or the facilities, she was gaping in awe. Bill didn't think it had even sunk in yet that he had chosen to bring her alone as her birthday present. Charlie was going to kill him.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Ginny passed him her nearly whole lamb falafel sandwich without looking at him. "Which one is your friend?"

Bill scanned the pitch as he chewed. "Masud is on the far side, underneath the flying carpet advert."

Ginny leaned still further for a better look.

"You do know you need a broomstick to fly, right, sprite?"

"Oh, could I?" She turned so eagerly her plaits flew from behind her back to over her shoulder. "I had lessons with Madam Hooch last year, and I was good, I promise I was! Please, Bill?"

She grabbed his forearm with both hands, tilted her head, and smiled. It was the same expression she had used to get the last slice of chocolate gateau from Percy last night. At the time, Bill had felt smugly superior, but really, how did you turn down a face as cute as that?

He smiled back. "Today is open fly." Few places in Cairo were private enough for broomsticks, but this stadium had been standing, complete with Disillusionment and Muggle- repelling charms, since before the city expanded across the Nile. As such, the team management opened the stadium to the wizarding public three times a week in the off- season.

Ginny bounced out of her seat. "Let's go, let's go!"

Even with his nearly two- foot height advantage, Bill was hard pressed to keep up as Ginny descended the stairs of the stands and circled round the pitch towards Masud. She waited to be introduced, then promptly asked for a broomstick.

Masud stared down at her, arms crossed. "You have been on a broomstick before?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

"You know how to stop and how to land safely?"

"Yes, sir."

"You will not fly off into the wind with the gods?"

She hesitated, and Bill bit back a grin. As equipment manager, Masud was very serious about his broomsticks.

"No, sir."

Masud turned and lifted two broomsticks from the racks behind him. "Very well then." He handed each of them a Nimbus Two Thousand.

Ginny stared at hers, floating in the air before her. "Harry has one of these," she whispered, then blushed scarlet. "Thank you," she added, then threw her leg over and gave Bill a shove. "Tag, you're it!"

()()()()

"Where did you learn to fly like that?" They were walking across the grounds to the Apparition point. Bill had ten minutes to get Ginny back to the cottage and himself back to work.

"I told you. I had lessons with Madame Hooch."

"You don't fly like a first year."

Ginny turned, walking backwards to face him and waving her hands in the air. "It's magic."

"Ha- ha."

She shrugged and turned forward again. He was coming to really hate that gesture, but she could keep that secret. It wasn't the one he wanted to know, anyway.

"Well, happy birthday, Gin- Gin."

She scowled. "I'm twelve. Don't you think it's time to drop the nickname? I already have a nickname."

"I know, Ginevra." Her scowl deepened, and Bill felt a deep sense of satisfaction. "Besides, you're not twelve yet."

"I am too! My birthday is August 11th, and today—"

"You were born in the late afternoon. In England it isn't even lunchtime yet."

"Bollocks," Ginny muttered.

Bill laughed. Much to their mother's horror (and no small amount of punishment), he and Charlie had encouraged Ginny's dirty mouth from the time she could talk.

"Listen, there is something I want to ask you." They had reached the Apparition point, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Ron told me about the Chamber and your nightmares." She went still and rigid. "He also said he thought you would have aced your exams if you hadn't been so stressed last year. I thought you two might like to come down to the training course this weekend and practice a bit."

She shifted, crossing her arms. "The curse breaker's training course? At Gringotts?"

"Uh- huh." Thank goodness she wasn't looking at him. He had kept his voice casual, but he felt the tension in his shoulders and knew he couldn't hide how much he wanted her to say yes.

″Why?″

Why? Why did everyone keep asking that? ″Because I think it will help you. Practice recognizing dark objects, gain some confidence in your magic.″

Ginny glared. ″There is nothing wrong with my magic.″

″Of course there isn't anything wrong with your magic.″

″You think there's something wrong with me.″

″You're scared of the dark, and you're waking up the whole house with your screaming nightmares. Pardon me for thinking there is something wrong with that.″

″I am not scared of the dark,″ she said, but her voice was shaking. With anger or fear, Bill couldn't tell.

″You are too,″ he said ruthlessly. ″Ron isn't the only one who knows about the nightmares— Percy, Fred, and George have heard you too. Amy actually dosed you with Dreamless Sleep potion when you stayed with her. Did you know that?″ From the way her freckles stood out in sharp relief against her pale skin, he guessed not. ″She has only ever heard me talk about you, and even she knew something was wrong. What are you going to do in a month when you're back at school, and Ron is in another dormitory? Crawl in bed with a girl who doesn't like you?″

Ginny's face crumpled, but she didn't cry. ″They're getting better.″

″They are not.″ Bill had no way of knowing that, but considering the shadows under her eyes, it was a pretty safe bet. ″And they will get worse when you get back to Hogwarts, where it all happened. The nightmares are going to get worse, and you're probably going to have flashbacks too. You have to actually do something if you want to recover from this. I can help you, Ginny. Please, let me help you.″

She was glaring at him again, little fists clenched by her sides. ″I do not need your help.″

Bill softened his voice. ″I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. I swear it on my magic.″

She turned away from him and stuck her nose in the air, crossing her arms again. ″No. I don't want to go.″

Bill crossed his own arms and stepped forward to tower over her. ″You need to go. You need to learn how to recognize dark objects and neutralize or contain them, and the only way I know to do that safely is to take you to the training course.″

″That's what Defense Against the Dark Arts is for. I'm not going. Besides, I'm too young to do magic outside of school.″

Bill spoke through gritted teeth. ″You are two thousand miles from the Ministry of Magic, and the training center is undetectable.″

″I'll tell. I'll tell Mum you want to take me to the curse breaker's course, and I'll tell Ron and Charlie you're trying to make me do something I don't want to do. I mean it, Bill.″

He glared back at her. He could probably— maybe— convince Charlie, but if Ginny kissed up to Ron, he would take her side and never give up. Not to mention Mum was a serious threat. Bill had no doubts that his mother could still find a variety of ways to make his life miserable. He took a deep breath and unclenched his jaw.

″I've already made arrangements with the goblins.″

″Then un- arrange them.″

She was so stubborn! ″You can't back out of a deal with a goblin, Ginny. Half my next bonus— maybe more, depending on how much it is— is Donerk's, whether you go or not.″ Not to mention Amy's offer.

Her expression flickered briefly, then hardened. ″You should have asked me first.″

No, he shouldn't have asked her at all. He should have just shown up at the cottage on Sunday morning, but he needed her help to keep what they were doing hidden from Mum and Dad. Stubborn, obnoxious, obstinate witch! He was tempted to leave her here and let her make her own way home, but Bill had enough experience with his little sister's antics to know he would definitely come out the loser in that scenario.

″Grab hold.″ He stuck his hand in her face.

Her brown eyes were cold, and she had her arms crossed and her nose in the air again. ″I'm not going anywhere with you.″

″For Merlin's sake, Ginny, all I have to do is hold onto you, and you'll come with me anyway. Grab hold.″

He would just have to get to Ron first.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Okay, I have to admit I'm even more excited about this than I thought I would be. 100 reviews-wow! Thank you all so much :D Here's the extra chapter, as promised. I'll post Chapter 13 on Wednesday.

keeptheotherone

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Bill had spent most of his time fuming over Ginny's denial and plotting his conversation with Ron before deciding to skive off work. He found Charlie sitting alone at the kitchen table with the new copy of _Quidditch Weekly_ and a bowl of dates.

″Where is everyone?″

″Mum and Dad are out, Percy took Fred and George shopping for Ginny—″ the brothers exchanged a look of responsible exasperation—″Ginny's holed up in her room, and Ron's doing homework.″

Bill choked on a seed. ″I'm sorry, I thought you said Ron is doing homework.″

″I did.″ Charlie closed the magazine and tipped his chair back. This was strictly forbidden at the Weasley table and therefore engaged in whenever their mother was out of sight. Bill hadn't even realized he had done it until Charlie copied him. ″Hermione wrote today.″

Bill grinned. ″Again?″ He had been so distracted by Ginny and Amy that he had hardly taken the piss out of Ron at all. Poor kid was probably feeling neglected. But since Charlie was alone. . . . ″How were the pyramids?″

″Fine.″ Charlie tipped his chair further, teetering on the edge of falling, in more ways than one.

″How's Amy?″ He hadn't seen her since they went shopping for Ginny's presents.

″Fine.″

Bill pinged Charlie's forehead with a date, somewhat mollified when it broke Charlie's concentration and he landed on all four legs with a swear.

″Ask her yourself,″ Charlie said. ″I don't kiss and tell.″

Bill almost overbalanced, then caught himself by shifting his weight. ″So, you did kiss her.″

″What if I did? She's not your girlfriend. She's not mine, either.″

Bill felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He shifted his weight again. Charlie was balancing with apparent ease, even swinging one leg back and forth. Bill supposed it wasn't all that different from balancing on a broomstick, and Merlin knew Charlie could do that in his sleep.

″You never did tell me what's up with you and Tonks.″

″Let it alone, Bill.″

Bill studied his brother's expression, then conceded with a clattering of chair legs. ″I'm going to 'help' Ron,″ he said, relieved to see Charlie smile, even if it didn't reach his eyes. ″Don't let Mum catch you doing that.″

()()()()

Bill knocked on the door on the left side of the landing and entered.

Ron looked up. ″Oh, it's you.″

Ron and Percy (and sometimes Charlie, who was bouncing between the guest cottage and Bill's flat) had been holed up in here for nearly four weeks, and even Percy's usual neatness was taking a hit. Two beds were unmade, Percy had simply thrown the duvet over his, various items of clothing were scattered on the floor, schoolbooks were piled haphazardly on the desk, which also had a few quills and random bits of parchment cluttering it up, and Bill had to move a stack of laundry just to sit down. If Ron didn't agree to help him persuade Ginny to come into the Core, he could always threaten to complain to Mum about the state of this room.

″I thought you might need some help with your homework, but you look like you're doing fine.″ This was the most blatant lie Bill had told in some time. Ron's hair was standing on end, his right hand was dotted with ink stains, and the bin and the floor surrounding it were full of tightly wadded balls.

Ron made a noise in the back of his throat and threw down his quill, splattering ink in a wide arc. ″I got another letter from Hermione today, so I thought I'd better get started on a reply so she could get it before September, and then I thought she'd really like it if I told her I had one of my essays done, so I started on Charms because I thought that would be easiest, but it's not, and now I've spent all afternoon revising, and I haven't finished the essay _or_ written to Hermione! How did she come up with five pages of stuff to write about, anyway? She just wrote three days ago. I haven't even replied to that letter, and she's written more than a page per day!″

Bill lounged on the bed, enjoying his brother's distress immensely. ″Girls talk a lot,″ he said mildly.

Ron snorted and chucked another piece of parchment in the general direction of the bin. He frowned at the sheet in front of him. ″Why do you think she wrote to me again when I hadn't replied yet?″

Bill smiled. ″She misses you.″

Ron's ears turned pink. He continued talking to Hermione's letter. ″It's weird, not seeing her every day. Harry too,″ he added. ″But with Hermione, it reminds me of—″

Bill sobered. ″Of when she was Petrified?″

Ron nodded.

Bill took another look at the cluttered desk and floor. Ron was really trying; there was no doubt this was important to him. Bill didn't have the heart to take the piss, considering.

He held out his hand. ″May I?″ Somewhat to his surprise, Ron passed him several sheets of parchment. She did talk a lot, about a lot of different things. No wonder Ron was overwhelmed. Not to mention the pressure of wanting to impress her, which couldn't have been plainer if Ron had written it in color- change ink.

″Look, she says right here that she knows you haven't had time to respond to her previous letter, but she wanted to know if you heard about Sirius Black's escape. Start with what you think about that.″ That was bad news, that was. Bill remembered the wizard who had killed thirteen people.

Ron looked at him blankly. ″What do I think about that?″

Bill rolled his eyes. ″What was the first thing you thought of when you read it?″

″That only Hermione would bother to have the _Daily Prophet_ delivered in the summertime, and worse still, to spend time reading it.″

″There you go.″

″I can't write that!″

″Would you have said it to her if she had told you in person?″

″Probably,″ he admitted.

″Well, then.″

Ron looked skeptical but obediently put quill to parchment. ″What's next?″

″She says she added an extra six inches to her Potions essay and wants to know if you've done any of yours yet.″

Ron groaned.

″Tell her you spent all afternoon revising for Charms,″ Bill suggested, getting into the spirit of the thing. ″That's true.″

Ron brightened and scribbled industriously. They continued responding point by point until Ron had filled two sheets of parchment front and back and was shaking out his hand. ″Check my spelling.″

Bill didn't bother to hide his amusement.

″What?″

″You're working awfully hard to impress this girl.″

″She's not a girl. She's my best friend,″ Ron said indignantly.

Bill laughed. Ron looked offended and tried to snatch the letter back, but Bill pulled it out of Ron's reach. ″She's still a girl, and you would do well to remember it.″

″So? Charlie's best friend was a girl. You and Amy are friends.″

″Ah—er—″ Bill cleared his throat and decided it would not be helpful to explain both he and Charlie had slept with their respective friends, and the complications that ensued. He returned his attention to Ron's spelling, corrected the mistakes with a tap of his wand, and handed the letter back. ″I'll post it tomorrow, if you like.″

Ron paused in licking the envelope. ″You'd better not add anything about me trying to impress her.″

″Because fancying a girl would be the end of life as you know it?″

″Yes.″ Ron sealed the letter by banging on it with an emphatic fist, then glanced at the clock.

Bill considered that as Ron pulled out his chess set. Hell, it was true. Once a bloke noticed the opposite sex, everything changed. He sighed. Ron was his youngest brother; might as well let him live the simple life for another year or so.

()()()()

Bill studied the chessboard. He hadn't been bragging when he told Amy that Ron was an excellent chess player. Bill had won their first match, but if there was a way for him to win this one, he wasn't seeing it. He moved his bishop away from Ron's knight. ″How is Ginny doing?″

Ron scowled but didn't hesitate in making his play. Bill suspected Ron had already finished this match in his head.

″She's okay. What happened this afternoon?″

″What do you mean?″ Which would Bill rather have captured, his rook or his bishop?

″She was pissed off about something, and Ginny loves to fly.″

″I want to take her into the curse breakers' training course and help her get comfortable around dark magic. Maybe work on her fear of the dark. She doesn't want to go.″ Bill watched as Ron's queen dragged his bishop off the board by the back of his robes.

″She doesn't want to go?″ Ron said incredulously. ″It sounds brilliant!″

″Help me convince her.″

Ron's enthusiasm died in an instant. ″It's impossible to get Ginny to do something she doesn't want to do. You know that.″

Bill moved another chess piece out of immediate, but not permanent, danger. ″This is important, Ron.″

″I know it is. But she trusts me. Checkmate.″

How had he— damn. Bill tipped over his king. ″You can come too.″ He was planning to bring Ron anyway, but he didn't have to know that.

Ron looked up from his king and queen's victory dance and his eyes widened. ″Are you serious?″

″If you help me persuade Ginny, you can come with us.″

″What was her excuse for not going?″

″She's not afraid of the dark, and her nightmares are getting better.″

Ron scoffed. ″She hasn't spent the whole night alone in over a week. She used to just come get me if she needed me, but the last few nights I've been waiting for Mum and Dad to go to bed and then going down to her room. It's getting harder to wake her up too.″

″Do you think we can bully her into it, like Percy did at Thebes?″

Ron shook his head. ″I think she's more afraid of you than anything.″

″Me? Why would Ginny be afraid of me?″

Ron placed his chess pieces back in their box carefully, almost tenderly. ″She doesn't want you to think badly of her.″

″I don't think badly of her!″

″What did you say?″

″I told her I wanted to give her some practice recognizing dark objects.″

″So, if only she had been smart enough to know the diary was cursed, she never would have written in it. No one would have been Petrified, and Harry wouldn't have nearly been murdered— again. You told her it was all her fault.″

Bill braced his elbows on his knees. ″That's not what I meant.″

″Of course not. But Ginny already thinks that, so—″ He shrugged.

″I could always Stun her and take her anyway. She's as light as a fairy.″

″No,″ Ron said sharply. ″That's what Riddle did. He manipulated her and tricked her and threatened her. She'll never forgive you if you force her.″

″I'm trying to help her. Why can't she just cooperate?″

Ron shrugged again. ″She's a girl, isn't she?″

Bill lifted his head. Sometimes, when you least expected it, Ron could be quite profound. ″Well then, what do you suggest?″

″Let's wait and see. Maybe if I talk to her after one of her nightmares, she'll change her mind.″

()()()()

"Happy birthday!" Amy smiled at the young witch who answered the door and extended her present.

"Cheers," Ginny said, smiling back at her. ″This is pretty.″ She traced the fluttering ribbon with one finger. "Come in. Mum just called for us to wash our hands."

Amy stepped into the cottage and was greeted by a roar of approval from its many occupants. She grinned; she didn't often get that reaction when she entered a room. "Hey, guys.″

Charlie stood to give her a hug and kiss her cheek. ″Hi, Amy.″

″Hi, Amy.″ Fred grabbed her next, and Amy found herself being passed from brother to brother like a football. By the time she got to Ron, on the far side of the room, she was laughing. Maybe this would be okay, after all.

But Ginny was scowling. ″She is my guest, not your lot's birthday present.″ Ginny took her hand, pulling her out of the crowd. ″Come on, you can sit by me.″

The brothers trailed them into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was floating dishes to the table with her wand, and Amy found herself seated between Ginny and Charlie. Bill was on Ginny's other side, so Amy didn't have to spend the meal looking across the table at either of them. Ginny was a lively dinner companion, telling her all about flying that afternoon and asking what Amy had done at work that week, looking interested even when the answer was cataloguing inventory. They were about halfway through the meal when Mr. Weasley called for everyone's attention.

″Today we are celebrating the twelfth birthday of our beautiful Ginevra.″ He beamed at his daughter, who turned pink but smiled back at him. ″It's time for everyone to share a memory. Molly, you go first.″

Mrs. Weasley set down her fork and smiled at her daughter. ″Your first day at Hogwarts. You were so excited! You've been chasing the train ever since Bill's first year—″ Her audience laughed— ″when you were just a wee thing. And I was so happy for you, and then—″ She bit her lip. ″And then I was left standing on the platform all by myself for the first time, and I wanted to chase the train,″ she said ruefully, and her children laughed again.

Ginny looked at Bill expectantly— Amy assumed there was a general pecking order to this tradition— but the twins interrupted.

″Your Sorting,″ Fred and George said together.

″You looked so tiny—″ Fred said.

″And scared, and we thought the Hat—″

″Might actually fall over your shoulders—″

Everyone laughed, including Ginny. She wasn't _that_ petite.

″And then the Hat just sat there—″ George said.

″And just when we were starting to worry it might put our baby sister somewhere where we couldn't watch over her—″

″And annoy her—″

″It shouted, 'Gryffindor,' ″ Fred said.

″What was the Hat thinking, anyway?″ George asked Ginny.

″It was thinking about putting her in Slytherin,″ Ron said dryly, and the table laughed again.

″My favorite memory of Ginny from this year was an envelope,″ Bill said, turning in his seat to smile at his sister. ″ 'Miss Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' And this afternoon, watching you fly. I nearly killed Charlie the first time he took you on a broomstick.″

″No, your dad was the first person to take Ginny up, weren't you, Arthur?″

″No, Mum.″ Charlie grinned. ″That was only the first time you knew about.″

Mrs. Weasley's mouth fell open and then she laughed good-naturedly with the others.

″Charlie, you're next,″ Ginny said.

″Well, I did get a rather interesting thank- you letter last August.″

Ginny gasped and covered her face, which began to glow bright red around her hands.

″There was one line that said 'Dear Charlie, Thank you for my birthday present,' and the rest went on and on— for three pages!— about a boy named—″

″Harry Potter!″ Bill, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron shouted.

Amy put her arm around the girl, which was a little difficult as she had sunk so low in her chair. ″Don't embarrass her. It's her birthday!″

″But it's so much fun,″ Fred said.

″And easy,″ George said.

″All right, that's enough teasing,″ Mr. Weasley said, but he too was smiling. ″Percy, what about you?″

″My favorite is Ginny telling off Draco Malfoy in Flourish and Blotts last August.″

Ginny surfaced above table level. ″You heard that?″

Percy nodded. ″I was just the other side of the bookshelf. It was painful to watch you being so shy with Harry, and I was glad to see you talking in front of him. Malfoy was just a bonus.″

″But I thought last year Ginny hadn't met Harry yet,″ Amy said.

″Harry spent a month at our house last summer,″ Ron said.

″A month? You didn't tell me that!″ Amy said indignantly, turning to Ginny. ″We talked about Harry, and you never told me he was at your house for a month.″

Ginny shrugged, blushing again. ″There was nothing to tell,″ she muttered.

″Your crush spending a month in your house is not the kind of information you withhold from a girlfriend,″ Amy said sternly. ″You have been around boys too long.″

Ginny looked stricken. ″I'm sorry.″

Amy softened, hugging her again. ″I'm not angry, just surprised. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.″

″What about you, Amy? What's your favorite memory of Gin- Gin?″ Bill said.

Amy smiled. ″Pants,″ she said, and Ginny burst out laughing.

″What?″

″When we went shopping together, Ginny and I had an absolutely hilarious conversation about pants, because I didn't know it's the word you guys use for underwear.″

″We were walking out of Magical Witch,″ Ginny said, laughter in her tone, ″and Amy says, 'I need another pair of pants.' And I said, 'you just bought five pairs.' And she looks at me like I'm barmy and says, 'I've been wearing my gray ones to work almost every day—' ″

Everyone began to laugh.

″ And I said, 'Amy, you can't wear the same pair of pants every day!' ″ She was giggling hard, choking out words between breaths. ″And— and— she said, she said— 'Ginny, I wear them under my robes. It's not like I'm going to spill something on them'! ″

Ginny was crying, she was laughing so hard, so Amy took over the story, raising her voice to be heard over the laughing Weasleys.

″Ginny looked so horrified, I finally asked her what she was talking about. And she said—″ Amy began to laugh, remembering the girl's expression— ″She said, 'I'm talking about knickers. What are you talking about?' And then I got it. I was talking about trousers, of course,″ she added. ″We had a lot of fun that day, didn't we?″

Ginny smiled up at her, rubbing her eyes with the careless strokes of a witch who had never worn eye makeup. ″We did.″

″What about you, Mr. Weasley? What's your favorite memory of Ginny this year?″

Amy was surprised to see his expression sober instantly. In fact, he looked like he was trying not to cry. ″My favorite memory, Ginny, is seeing you come off the Hogwarts Express in June with a big smile on your face. That is my favorite memory of you this year.″

Amy remembered what Bill had said, _Ginny was writing in a cursed diary last year,_ and Mr. Weasley's words took on a new level of meaning.

Ginny smiled at her father again, then turned to Ron. ″What's your favorite? And pick something good.″

Ron looked his sister straight in the eye. ″My favorite memory is seeing your face through that hole in the rock wall.″ One beat of silence, then two. ″And telling Fred and George about Percy and Penelope.″ He smirked, and the tension in the room dissolved.

″Ginny, you promised!″

Ginny laughed. ″Oh, Percy, with gossip like that? You had to know I was going to tell eventually.″

″You should have been sorted into Slytherin,″ Percy grumbled.

()()()()

Ginny had opened a pile of mostly clumsily- wrapped presents, and Amy was surprised to see that Bill had actually passed along her suggestions. Mrs. Weasley was taking her to get her ears pierced, Fred and George had bought her a pair of earrings, and Percy had found a beautiful green print skirt that was exactly the right size. There were some novels from her parents, a biography of the captain of the Holyhead Harpies from Charlie, and a Muggle diary from Ron. Ginny had stared at it doubtfully despite Ron's reassurances.

″I bought it in a Muggle shop, and it was all wrapped up. But I took that off to write in it, just to make certain.″ He took the book and opened it to the first page before giving it back to her. ″See?″

Amy didn't know what the boy had written, but whatever it was caused Ginny to clasp the diary to her chest with one arm and nearly strangle Ron with the other.

They had enjoyed delicious slices of chocolate cake with chocolate icing (Amy took hers sans the chocolate ice cream— she had eaten more than enough ice cream in the last week) and then Amy won her first- ever game of chess, thanks to Ron's assistance. There had been a tense moment when Ron had suggested she play Bill first, made more embarrassing by her and Bill's immediate shouts of protest, but Percy had gallantly offered to be her opponent and Amy accepted gratefully. She wasn't sure she believed the siblings' claims of Bill beating Charlie blindfolded last week, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Percy let her win (considering that Ron was explaining their strategy out loud), but now she knew exactly what to give Percy for his birthday: two hours with her VCR and a copy of ″Hamlet.″ His girlfriend had mentioned she thought he would like it, and he wanted very much to be able to tell her he'd seen it. It had been a wonderful evening with wonderful company, and Amy was surprised to find herself reluctant to leave when the clock chimed nine.

She thanked her hosts, fended off Fred and George when they looked like they were going to pass her around the room again, and paused beside the birthday girl. ″If I don't see you again before you leave, have a wonderful year at school.″

″I'm going to,″ Ginny said. ″Thanks so much for the pajamas, and for coming, and everything.″

″You're very welcome.″ Amy hugged her and whispered, ″I put my address in the shirt pocket. Owl me any time, and I promise, I won't say a word to Bill.″

Ginny nodded against her shoulder, then stepped back and looked at Bill. ″Well? Aren't you going to see her home?″

Bill looked from Ginny to Amy and back again. ″The last time I offered to do that, she just about bit my head off.″

″She was angry with you. She's not angry anymore, are you?″

Amy shook her head, letting the interaction between brother and sister play out.

″Ginny, Amy has been Apparating even longer than I have,″ Bill said. ″I'm sure she will be fine.″

Ginny frowned up at him, hands on her hips. ″What if I was in a big city far away from home? Would you want my friends letting me disappear all over the place?″

Bill opened his mouth, closed it, and looked between the two of them again, obviously uncertain as to how to make them both happy.

Amy took pity on him and smiled. ″Your brother's right, Ginny. I'll be home before you even get upstairs. Good night.″

She liked that witch. She really did.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Bill kicked the door closed behind him and pulled the neatly knotted bag of Mum's leftovers out of his pocket as he walked into his kitchen. There was a post owl waiting patiently on the windowsill. Poor bird, who knew how long it had been waiting for him. He had gone straight from the bank to the cottage so he would have time to speak with Ron before dinner, and now it was well past dark. Bill opened the window, removed the scroll of parchment from the owl's leg, and offered the owl some pork chop. It hooted gratefully, drank from the faucet when Bill turned it on, and flew out into the night. He grabbed a butterbeer, twisted off the top and chucked it into the bin, and carried drink and letter into the sitting room.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_Of course I understand your family's need for privacy, and I will speak of this to no one, least of all Miss Weasley. The object you describe sounds like very dark magic; very dark, indeed, if its destruction required the use of a basilisk fang (incidentally, I am most curious as to where said basilisk fang came from. If you care to elaborate on this in any future correspondence, I assure you a most eager and attentive audience). Given your sister's symptoms, both at the time of her possession of the diary and continuing to the present, I have my suspicions as to the exact nature of the curse used, but I wish to conduct further research before revealing them._

_I am sure your practical experience with dark magic will be of great benefit to Miss Weasley should you manage to convince her to accept your assistance. I am sorry to say I have no experience with sisters, but I have found chocolate to be very effective with witches in general. It is also an effective remedy for restoring a positive mood after encountering various dark creatures, and I am confident it would have similar effects for the treatment of nightmares._

_I will write more once school starts and I have access to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library._

_Wishing you luck,_

_Remus Lupin_

Bill let the parchment roll in upon itself and took another drink of butterbeer. So, Professor Lupin had a sense of humor as well as a talent for reading between the lines. He had picked up on the significance of the basilisk fang, mentioned Ginny's ″possession″ of the diary, and wanted to do research in the Restricted Section. He thought the diary was one of _those_ too— evil so foul Bill hesitated to speak its name. He would wait and see how Ginny and Ron did in the Core, and maybe then he could give the man some useful information about two of his new students.

()()()()

Bill collected the broomsticks from his chattering brothers and passed them over the counter to Masud. He had brought the boys to open fly, and it had been fantastic. The weather was gorgeous, the pitch wasn't crowded, and he had forgotten how much fun it was to fly with all of them. Ron was old enough now that Bill and Charlie didn't have to watch his every move to make sure he didn't fall off his broomstick (or get knocked off), and while Percy didn't love playing Quidditch the way Charlie and Fred and George and Ron did, he still had a good enough arm to make a decent Chaser. The brothers had played as a team with the handful of other wizards who showed up and won 240 to 90. It had been a good game— a rare chance to compete together, instead of against each other— and now they were headed back to have dinner with Mum, Dad, and Ginny.

"How can you possibly say that? A Seeker can earn his team 150 points, but a Beater can't even score!"

Charlie and Fred were having their running "most valuable position" argument.

"George, wait a minute." Bill pulled George to the back of the group before he could move forward to join the discussion. "I heard you two have big plans."

" 'Course we do.″

"That don't include O.W.L.s."

George looked suspicious. "Is this a lecture?"

"Think of it as an interview. Tell me about your joke shop plans."

George's features shifted into a scowl. "Fred has a big mouth."

"Fred knows I don't tell tales." Especially not this one. If Fred and George pulled this off, and Mum found out Bill had advance knowledge of it . . . he just hoped he was still on another continent.

"We're going to make money at what we do best— making people laugh."

"How, exactly, do you plan to do that?"

George shrugged. "We're not sure yet. I'm thinking we start small, just a few products by mail order, and build up the capital to fund new product development."

"You have plenty of time. Why not continue with your studies as well? You and Fred are smart, George. You could do well if you tried."

"Of course we could. But why waste our energy on something useless?"

"_Useless_? Good marks and exam scores are not useless. Neither Charlie nor I would be doing what we love if we hadn't worked hard and earned the right to be here." Fred and Charlie were still arguing about Quidditch at the head of the group, but neither of them knew how to get back to the guest cottage from here. "Left at the corner, Charlie!"

"We're not opposed to working hard. You think it's easy to make stuff up? And make it work right, without hurting anybody? Fred and I don't want to work with dragons, or for Gringotts, or for the Ministry. We want to do something on our own, and we will have to do it on our own— we know Dad can't help us. That's not a slam against Dad," George added hastily, "it's just—"

"The way things are."

"Yeah. Besides, did you ever walk into Zonko's and ask 'Pardon me, Mr. Williams, but how many O.W.L.s did you receive?' Why should we care about our O.W.L.s if our customers won't?"

Bill experienced the familiar sense of deja- vu that was so much a part of talking with the twins. "All right, George, you've made your point. But do earn a few O.W.L.s for Mum, will you? She couldn't have expected you to be prefects, but she definitely expects you to finish school."

()()()()

″Bill, wake up! Bill! Bill, wake up!″

Bill woke with a start just as his bedroom door banged open. Moonlight revealed a tall, lanky boy at the foot of his bed.

″Ron, what the hell—?″ A disheveled Charlie appeared behind Ron, still dragging his blanket from the sofa.

Ron ignored him. ″You have to come quick,″ he said, jerking Bill's covers off the bed. ″Something's wrong with Ginny.″

″What do you mean, 'something's wrong with Ginny'?″ Bill threw his legs over the side and grabbed his trousers.

″I couldn't get her to wake up. I mean, she looks like she's awake, but she doesn't act like she's awake.″

″And you just left her?″ Charlie said.

″Mum's with her. Hurry up!″

Bill stuck both arms into sleeves. ″Go, I'm right behind you.″

Charlie followed Ron into the sitting room. Bill heard the whoosh of the Floo as Ron left the flat and Charlie's swearing as he searched for his clothes. Bill shoved both feet into trainers and grabbed his wand. Charlie was pulling a shirt over his head when Bill entered the living room. He picked up Charlie's wand from the table, tossed it to him, and both brothers Apparated into the guest cottage kitchen.

Ginny was screaming.

″No, I don't want to go! I won't go, I won't do it again, I won't!″

Bill entered Ginny's bedroom to find his entire family gathered round her bed. Mum was sitting beside her and was trying to wrap her arms around her, but Ginny was fighting, thrashing all over the bed and peeling Mum's hands off her.

″Let go, Mum. You're scaring her. Let go.″

Mum continued wrestling with Ginny, who had stopped screaming to concentrate on fighting. ″I told Ron there was no need to get you. She's just having a bad dream.″

″The hell she is.″ Bill stepped forward to prise Mum off her.

″You will not speak to your mother in that tone of voice,″ Dad said sharply.

Bill rounded on him, one outstretched arm pointing at the two witches. ″Does that look like a bad dream to you, Dad? Ginny doesn't know where she is or who any of us are! Tell Mum to back off.″ He looked round the room. ″The rest of you, except Ron, clear out.″

Charlie met his gaze, then chivvied the rest of their brothers from the room.

Dad moved to Mum and Ginny, and Bill turned to Ron.

″I think she thinks she's back at Hogwarts,″ Ron said, running his hand through his hair. It was sticking up everywhere, as if he had been doing that over and over. ″She keeps saying she won't go, she won't do it again. I think she's talking about the Chamber. She's mentioned Harry a couple of times.″

Bill had seen this once before, when a wizard who had been trapped in a tomb during an earthquake had encountered his first thunderstorm afterwards. The poor bloke had thought he was underground again and had wrecked the mess tent trying to get out. Bill had thought they were going to have to Stun him, but one of the more experienced curse breakers managed to talk him down.

″Here's what I want you to do. Talk to her, very gently. Tell her everything you're doing so you don't startle her, okay? Remind her who you are. We need to calm her down before we can do anything else.″

Mum was standing, sniffling, in Dad's embrace at the foot of the bed. Ginny was crouched in the corner, arms out, eyes darting from Bill to Ron to Mum and Dad and back again.

Ron approached the bed, being careful to stay out of arm's reach. ″Ginny? It's me, Ron. I'm just going to sit here on the bed. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? It's just Ron.″

″I don't want to go.″

″It's okay, Ginny. You don't have to go anywhere.″ Ron sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

She focused her gaze on him, then dropped her arms. ″Ron?″

″Yeah, sis, it's me.″ Encouraged by her recognition, Ron pushed himself further back on the bed and didn't see her coming.

Ginny sprung out of the corner and flung herself on top of Ron, knocking him over. ″Don't let him take me! I don't want to go.″

Ron scraped her hair out of his face with one hand and pushed the two of them into a sitting position with the other. ″He's not here, Ginny. Harry destroyed the diary, remember? Riddle can't hurt you anymore.″

″Harry? Is Harry all right?″

″Harry is fine.″ Ron tucked her hair behind her ear, his touch awkward yet gentle.

″Ron?″

″Yeah?″

″Where are we?″

Bill shot a furious ″I told you so″ look at his parents, who looked shocked at Ginny's confusion. Mum turned her face further into Dad's shoulder, and he led her out of the room.

″We're in your room.″

Ginny frowned. ″This is not the Burrow.″

″No, your room in the cottage. We're in Egypt, with Bill, remember?″

She blinked once, twice. ″It's summer?″

″Yeah. August something, I dunno.″

″It's over?″

″Completely.″

She relaxed against Ron, and he began rubbing her back. ″Bill wants to talk to you.″

She jerked and turned, noticing Bill for the first time.

″Hi, Gin- Gin.″ Bill picked her up, sat down on the bed, and set Ginny on his lap, resuming the rubbing of her back. ″Ron, find us some chocolate. What happened, sprite?″

″We got our Hogwarts letters today. And I was thinking about last year, and what going back would be like, and—″ She shrugged, keeping her face turned down.

″Do you remember going flying with me on your birthday?″

She nodded.

″Remember what I said, about the nightmares getting worse and having flashbacks at Hogwarts if you don't do something to recover?″

She nodded again.

″Do you remember what I asked you to do?″

She hesitated for the first time, folding the skirt of her nightdress into tiny pleats. ″You want to take me into the curse breaker's training course.″

″Uh- huh. And Ron too, unless—″

"No, I want Ron there," she said immediately. Then she went still and rigid.

Bill waited, still rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles.

"There will be dark magic," she said.

"Yes."

She finally looked up at him, and Bill's gut twisted at the fear in her eyes. "You really think you can make the nightmares go away?"

"Probably not completely, but I can teach you how to deal with them. I can teach you how to recognize dark objects, how to avoid being contaminated by them, and how to have confidence in your own magic. I can help you not to be afraid of the dark, so you don't have to worry about navigating Hogwarts without lighting your wand." _I can help you be Ginny again._

She jerked in surprise, eyes wide.

"I was at Hogwarts for seven years, Ginny. Those corridors get damn dark in the wintertime, even during the day."

Ron reappeared with a handful of Chocolate Frogs. He handed two to Ginny and opened one for himself.

She dropped her gaze again, fiddling with her Frog. "Do we have to tell Mum and Dad?"

Bill felt another surge of anger at his parents' ostrich approach to all of this. "Not if you don't want to."

She shook her head. "They've been so worried, and this trip is the first time I've seen Mum happy all summer. I don't want them to know I'm still—"

"You are not still possessed," Bill said firmly, "and there isn't any shame in being disturbed by what happened. I would be a lot more worried if you weren't, actually. You'll do it?"

She hesitated again, and the knot in his gut tightened to a physical pain. The contrast between the Ginny on the pitch and this Ginny right here was appalling. If he ever got the chance . . . if You- Know- Who ever came out in the open again. . . .

She looked over at Ron.

″Are you kidding? I'm dying to go!″

"I'll do it if Ron will," she said finally. "But you have to be the one to lie to Mum and Dad, okay?"

Bill pulled her into a hug. "Okay."

* * *

a/n: I know, Percy received his Hogwarts letter (at least one announcing his position as Head Boy) in mid-July, and Harry received his on his birthday, so Ginny probably received hers before mid-August, but I needed a plausible trigger for her behavior. So humor me on the timing, okay? Next week: Ron and Ginny in the Core!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Bill rapped Ron and Ginny on the tops of their heads with the end of his wand and they reappeared. They were standing in the Core, a circular torch- lit room with a dozen doors. Bill had made arrangements with Donerk for all the rooms to be in Fledgling Newbie mode. Instead of having dozens of rooms at varying levels of difficulty, the goblins had created these twelve and adjusted the magic to fit the skills of the wizards present for training. Even Fledgling Newbie mode was far beyond Ron's and Ginny's abilities, of course, but at least Bill knew all three of them would walk out in one piece. The last time he was in here, he had nearly been spiked by poisonous darts shooting from the many eyes of a golden statue.

"Pick a door."

Ginny moved so she was between her brothers. "What's going to happen?"

"Each room has some type of treasure— gold, jewels, ancient artifacts. You have to avoid the traps and penetrate the magical concealment to retrieve the treasure without destroying it. Each room will build on the magic you learned in the previous room, so choose the first one carefully."

"Fun!" Ron said.

Bill smiled at him. It was a hell of a lot of fun, minus the poisonous darts.

Ron looked to Ginny. She shook her head.

"That one," Ron said, pointing to an ornately engraved door to their left.

"Open it."

Ron strode across the chamber and cast an _Alohomora._ "Ginny, come look!"

Ah, the In Plain Sight room. This room looked like one of the Gringotts vaults with piles of gold galleons, stacks of silver sickles, and heaps of glittering gemstones, none of which were the actual treasure. Ron cottoned on at once.

"This is too easy," he said, frowning. "The treasure must be something else." He lit his wand and shone it around the room. Ginny copied him. "Back there, there's space between all this and the wall." Ron made to climb over the coins, but Ginny pulled him back.

"Wait, Ron, Bill said there would be traps." She turned to Bill, who was watching from the doorway. "How do we find out what the traps are?"

Bill showed them Scarpin's Revelaspell, which revealed any enchantments placed on an object. Nothing happened.

"Did it work?" Ginny said.

Bill tried not to be insulted by her wariness. "Yes, it worked. The coins and jewels have not been charmed. Watch carefully. There's a faint glow that appears around the object when the spell is cast." He did it again.

"Cool," Ron said, climbing over.

"So, if someone had cast that on my diary, we would have known it was cursed?"

Bill stared at her. Merlin, could it really have been that simple? "Yes, I think so."

Ginny got a stubborn look on her face, the same one she wore whenever he or his brothers told her she couldn't join them because she was too young, or because she was a girl. "Show me again."

Bill repeated the movement in slow motion and was teaching her how to pair it with the incantation when Ron called out.

"I've found something!" His red head popped up over a stack of sickles. "It's like an invisible box. I can't see it, but I keep running into it."

Bill left Ginny practicing the wand movement and joined his brother at the back of the vault. "How are we going to remove it?"

Ron's forehead crinkled. "Does the spell you used to make me and Ginny reappear work on objects too?"

"Well done, Ron." Bill reversed the Disillusionment charm.

Ron tried another _Alohomora_, but the lid remained closed. Bill cast the correct spell, and Ron removed the sculpture. He frowned. "What's so special about this?"

"It's a bust of Nefertiti." Ron gave him a blank stare. "She was the wife of a pharaoh. It's over three thousand years old."

Ron still did not look impressed. "It's not the real one, though, is it?"

"Nah, the Muggles have it. In Germany."

Ron set the bust back in the box. "I don't get it. What was the trap?"

"Greed," Ginny said from behind them. "Remember the Gringotts doors? 'Enter stranger, but take heed, of what awaits the sin of greed. . . .' You had to look past the obvious to find the true wealth."

"Exactly. Ready to try another one?"

Ginny preceded them out of the room and returned to the center of the Core, studying the doors before approaching a plain wooden one and casting a Revelaspell. Blue Arabic shimmered in the air, then disappeared. "What did it say?"

Bill shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen anyone cast that on one of the doors before, and I wasn't expecting it. Do it again." The blue script reappeared, but Bill didn't read it this time, either; he was too busy staring at his little sister. "That's a N.E.W.T.- level spell, that is."

"It is?" Ginny looked from her wand back to him and shrugged. "It seemed straightforward enough."

Bill shook his head again, harder this time. "Do it again, and see if you can hold the spell so the writing stays visible." As he expected, she had more trouble with this. Since he could see the effort was tiring her, Bill cast the spell himself and translated the writing. "The door is sealed, and there are concealment charms and transfigured objects inside."

Ginny went still and rigid. "This one has dark magic."

Bill nodded.

She reached for Ron's hand.

"You don't have to do this," Ron said quietly. "I can open the door and see what's inside first."

She considered the offer, then shook her head. "Bill, there's not anything— anything _living_ in there, is there?"

He knew there wasn't, not at the Fledgling Newbie level, but as this was supposed to be a teaching exercise. . . . "That's a different spell, actually. _Vita revelio_. Nothing."

Was it just the torchlight, or had she really gone that pale?

She backed up and cast the spell from the center of the Core. The lock clicked, and the door swung open. It was pitch black inside. Ginny lit her wand, and its light bounced erratically. Slowly, she advanced to the doorway, pulling Ron with her.

"Will you conjure some lamps, please?"

Her voice was shaking almost as much as her hand. If he wasn't certain this would help her, Bill would have felt guilty for putting her through this. He conjured several hanging lamps like the ones at the Burrow. This room was plain and apparently empty.

"Do that disillusionment thing."

"No, I want to try. What's the incantation again?" Ron said.

Bill told him and Ron repeated it. Nothing happened.

"Stupid, useless thing." Ron looked like he wanted to break his wand in half for good. "I can't wait until we go to Diagon Alley. Dad said I can get a new one."

"Here, try mine."

"No!" Ginny's voice was high and shrill, and Bill and Ron turned to look at her. "Bill is the only one who knows what he's doing. He should keep his wand."

"Well then, let me borrow yours."

Ginny just gave Ron a look.

Bill placed her behind him and Ron and relinquished his wand. This time, when Ron repeated the incantation, the air and floor ahead of them wavered and shimmered before reforming.

"Did you see that?"

"I did." Bill smiled at his brother's excitement and set his hand over Ron's. "One more time." With the added force of Bill's magic, the floor in front of them opened into a deep pit.

Ginny gasped. "You mean if we hadn't done that, we would have just fallen in?"

"Yes. That's why the first thing you do in approaching a site is revealing charms, but I've never seen anyone do it from the Core. That was brilliant, Ginny."

She shifted her wand to shine at him, judging the sincerity of the compliment. "Thank you." She turned back to the room. "What's back there?"

Ron and Bill repeated the Disillusionment charms until the entire room was exposed. This one was set up like a shop, with a worktop at the back and shelves along the walls holding various types of clothing and household objects. Ginny shone her wand light down into the pit again.

"Didn't you say there was transfiguration magic in here?"

"Mm-hmm." Bill was shining his own wand over the shelves, trying to remember what the treasure was in this room.

"What if that pit isn't really a pit?"

That was interesting. "Give it a go."

"_Finite Incantatem._"

Something flew up at her. Ginny screamed, and the room filled with flying bat bogeys. She had always been good at that spell, but the improvement when performed with her own wand was dramatic. Bill knocked a particularly gooey one off the back of Ron's neck and ended the charm. Ginny was shaking, taking those little heaving breaths girls did when they were trying not to cry. Ron put his arms around her, and she buried her face in his chest.

"You said there wasn't anything living in here," Ron accused.

"There isn't!" Bill reached for Ginny, but Ron actually turned her away from him. The brothers glared at each other.

"There isn't anything living in here, Ginny. That wasn't dark magic, either." Bill moved under Ron's watchful gaze to pick up something from the floor. "This bounced at you when it changed back into its original state."

Ginny didn't move from Ron's embrace, just turned her face to rest against his shoulder, raised her wand arm behind his back, and cast a Revelaspell at the ball in Bill's hand. When nothing happened except the faint glow, she stepped away from Ron.

"If I had done that first, would I have known that was what it was?"

"You would have known it was transfigured. That's the spell I thought you were going to do."

She took a deep breath. "Okay, there are too many things in here to check them one by one. Now what do we do?"

"When did you know there was something wrong with that diary?"

She went still and rigid for so long that Ron answered for her.

"In January, shortly after term started. She tried to throw it away in Moaning Myrtle's toilet."

"Is that true?"

Ginny shrugged. Again.

"When, Gin- Gin?"

"In November, after Colin was Petrified. I knew the diary was magical, but at first I thought it was charmed to repeat whatever you wrote in it. I wrote my name, Tom told me his. I said I was eleven, he said he was sixteen. But when I started writing more complicated things, his responses still made sense."

"_November_? But why—"

"Quiet, Ron. How did you know, Ginny?"

She swallowed. "Well, Dad always says you should never trust anything that thinks for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain—"

"You remembered that? Then why—"

"Ron!" Bill sharpened his voice. "You are not helping."

Ron slouched against the worktop, arms crossed.

"There was just something off about it, and after— after Colin, it was almost like Tom was glad_, _like my fear pleased him. I had never heard of a book writing back, and I had these gaps in my memory, but every time, the last thing I remembered was writing in the diary. And after a few weeks, I _had _to write in it. It was like it sucked me in, like those magnets Dad has in his shed. I stopped carrying it in my pocket and starting revising in the library instead of the common room, but I couldn't avoid it. It just— it just called to me." She shuddered.

"There is always 'something off' about dark objects. Sometimes it's the way they look, or the way they make you feel, or where you find them; they just don't belong. Magic can give you information, but it can't think for you. You still have to know when to use which spell and how to interpret the results. This room is like a scavenger hunt, with lots of dark objects amongst the clutter. Study the room, choose carefully, and cast the Revelaspell again."

()()()()

Bill stood in a corner and watched his two youngest siblings work the room. Neither one of them was half- bad, certainly no worse than some of the trainees he had seen, and the two of them together were just as good. They weren't going to find the treasure (in no small part because he couldn't remember what or where it was to guide them in the right direction), but after all, the whole point of this exercise was to boost Ginny's confidence around dark magic, and it seemed to be working.

She had identified a dark object with her first spell, a pearl- encrusted hair comb with a nasty variation of a Confundus Charm. The two of them had not asked for Bill's help since, simply piling all the dark objects on the worktop and working their way around the room.

Ginny moved behind the worktop. "What is this doing here?"

Bill waited for Ron to levitate a nasty- looking set of knives out of harm's way, then joined Ginny at the back of the shop. It was a pushchair complete with a baby blanket wadded in the seat, as if the mother had just picked up her child.

Ginny frowned. "There's not any baby stuff in here. I haven't even seen baby clothes. Or bottles, or nappies, or anything. Ron, have you seen any baby supplies?"

"Nope. Unless you count that ball that bounced out of the pit, I haven't seen any toys, neither."

"So what do you think?" Bill asked her.

"I think it doesn't belong. And the way that blanket is just begs for you to pick it up and refold it, or see what's underneath." She chewed her lip for a moment, then used a Levitation Charm to lift the blanket. Nothing. Her frown deepened. She cast the Revelaspell, and once again Arabic writing appeared.

"End the charm."

Ginny looked at him, obviously reluctant after her last encounter with _Finite._

Ron had abandoned the shop shelves and came over for a look. "I'll do it."

"No, I can do it." She took a couple steps back and extended her wand. "_Finite Incantatem._"

The pushchair spun itself in circles a few times and then shuddered to a halt.

"What was it?" Ginny said.

"The handle was spelled with a Sticking Charm and the pushchair itself with _Locomotor._ If you had grabbed the handle, it would have pulled you around instead of you pushing it where you wanted. Are you about done in here? I want to make sure we have time for one more room."

Ginny nodded, but Ron looked disappointed. "But we haven't found any treasure yet."

"You could stay in here all day and not find any treasure. The goblins call this the Room of Perpetual Exploration for a reason. Come on."

Both of them were comfortable in the Core now, looking at the remaining doors with interest rather than fear. Ron headed for the one opposite them but Bill stopped him.

"Actually, it's my turn." He waited for Ron to return to the center beside him and Ginny, then spoke to the Core at large. "Show me The Dark One."

The air crackled, and white flames floated in front of a door behind them. Bill crossed the chamber and Vanished the flames with a wave of his wand. He turned round. Ginny and Ron had not moved.

Bill cast both _Revelio _spells, showing rather than telling them that the room was free of both dark magic and dark creatures. This room was about darkness itself.

"Open the door, Ginny." He wanted her to do this herself, to make the decision to confront her fear. All the practice and exposure in the world wouldn't help her if she didn't take the initiative. She wasn't holding Ron's hand, but she was standing unnaturally close to him. When she finally spoke, Bill could tell it cost her to ask the question out loud.

"You're not going to prank me?"

Bill held out his free hand, fifth finger extended. "I'm not going to prank you."

Ginny hooked her own tiny pinkie around his, and the promise was sealed. "_Alohomora_."

The door opened to reveal a cave, completely empty and illuminated only by a shaft of light through the center of the ceiling. Ron and Ginny stepped inside.

"When I close the door, that shaft will close and the room will be completely black. The purpose of this room is to overcome fear— fear of the dark, fear of closed spaces, fear of being alone— all the things that can happen if you get trapped in a tomb. The magic of the room presents you with what you fear most, but no matter what it is, it can't hurt you in here." Bill looked at Ginny. "We won't stay long, but I want to give you a chance to overcome some of the immediate panic. Okay?"

Ron and Ginny were both whey- faced, but they nodded. They were holding hands now. Bill took a deep breath himself and let go of the door. It closed with a resounding _clang_, and immediately he felt the sense of infinite space, the impression that he could walk towards the back wall forever and yet never reach it. His heart rate kicked up.

"_Lumos." _Ginny's voice, even higher than usual.

Nothing happened. This room couldn't be penetrated by magical light.

"_Lumos." _Now Ron was trying. Bill didn't blame him. The urge to do so was almost overwhelming, even though Bill knew it wouldn't work. "_Lumos maxima! _Bill?"

"I'm right here, Ron." Bill took two steps towards his brother's voice, and Ron's groping hand hit him in the stomach. Bill could hear scuttling noises now, and a faint crunch as he shifted his weight. Spiders.

"Gin- Gin?"

"Fire," she gasped. "Light a fire, Bill, please!"

That wouldn't work either, but to refuse would be cruel. "_Incendio! Flagrate!" _The scuttling was quieter now, replaced by an ominous slithering sound. Damn, he had forgotten the monster was a basilisk. Surely these were just regular- size snakes, though. Right?

"Okay. Remember what I said, that nothing in here can hurt you. It's just an illusion. Damn convincing—" Bill drew another deep breath (it felt like the walls were receding and drawing him deeper into the room at the same time)— "but an illusion nonetheless." The three siblings had positioned themselves back- to- back, subconsciously protecting their weakest sides.

"What do we have to do to get out of here?" Ginny had found his arm, and her grip was bruising.

"Walk forward."

"What?"

"Walk forward. Walk towards the fear, confront it head- on, and the sounds and sensation will go away. Once all three of us have done that, the shaft will open up, and it will be light again." Bill felt his left arm pull away from his body as Ginny immediately obeyed his instructions. A surge of pride momentarily suppressed his nausea. Never let it be said his baby sister hadn't earned her place in Gryffindor.

"You have to do it alone, sprite." Her grip tightened painfully, and he could hear her breathing. "Come on, Ginny, let go."

Bill wouldn't have thought it possible, but her grip tightened further still. His hand was numb.

"I'll do it with you." Ron's voice wasn't much more than a whisper, but Bill could feel Ron's determination as he shifted his stance. "Come on, Ginny, let's tell that sorry Slytherin where to stick it."

The snakes hissed as if they took the insult personally. Bloody hell, was that a rattle? There were no rattlesnakes in Egypt!

"I am not a crybaby, and I am not a silly little girl. And I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor just because that's where all my brothers went. I can be brave too." She dropped Bill's arm and stepped away from him in one sudden motion. "Ron?"

"I did it too, Ginny. Now you, Bill."

Bill gritted his teeth. Putting his back to Ron and Ginny had meant he was facing the door, but now he had to turn and move towards that infinite wall. He spun round and stepped forward, and the three of them were bathed in light. Bill rested his hands on his knees and swore, first in English, then Arabic. "Merlin, I hate this room! Let's get out of here."

Ron and Ginny were grinning broadly when they returned to the Core, and Bill couldn't help but grin back. "You two were fantastic. I'm so proud of both of you." He bent to hug Ginny, picking her up to buss her cheek, then gripped Ron's hand, pulling him into a one- armed hug and ruffling his hair. Both of them were pink with pleasure. "Now remember, the note said we went flying, so be sure to tell Mum how great the Quidditch was."

* * *

a/n: For those of you who have asked, this story will end next week with an epilogue. If you've read this far, please, _please_ take a moment to review and let me know what you think!

Ginny's quote from the Gringotts doors is from _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_, Chapter 5 "Diagon Alley," p. 56 (Bloomsbury children's hardback).


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_I am writing in confidence yet again as I broke at least a half- dozen rules and smuggled Ron and Ginny into the curse breakers' training course this morning. Ginny had a bad flashback the night she received her Hogwarts letter, and that experience (combined with a couple of Chocolate Frogs) helped me convince her to give it a try. I have to say, she was brilliant. They both were. I can assure you Ron and Ginny each deserve their spots in Gryffindor and weren't just Sorted by their last name._

_I can't tell you anything about how the course is set up, and I have sworn Ron and Ginny to secrecy unless they want a plethora of hidden deeds revealed to whichever family member would be most upset by them, so you won't get anything out of them about it, either. But I can tell you about the magic they performed._

_Ginny learned Scarpin's Revelaspell in about five minutes flat and had the audacity to tell me ″it seemed straightforward enough″! The only time I saw her have difficulty was when I asked her to hold the spell so I could read the writing it revealed, and I think she could have done that if I hadn't been worried about tiring her too soon. She has also mastered _Finite Incantatem, Wingardium Leviosa, _and_ Alohomora, _and if anyone in Hogwarts is attacked by bat bogeys, you need look no further for the culprit._

_Ron has mastered all those spells as well (with the exception of Scarpin's, and I'm not sure about the Bat Bogey Hex) and should have no problems reversing a Disillusionment Charm once he has a proper wand (there was an unfortunate incident last September first involving a flying car and the Whomping Willow. You probably saw it in the _Prophet_). Both of them are smart and careful (naturally, Ginny more so) and after a couple of hours were problem- solving with confidence. Ron has a natural instinct for strategy (don't ask him to play chess unless you like losing), and he and Ginny together were as good as any first- time trainee I have seen. I am pleased to say I think both of them will do well in your class this year, but I would still appreciate any extra help you can give to Ginny, especially. She hasn't come out and said so, but I think some of her memory gaps extend to lessons, as well, and I know she is nervous about navigating the castle._

_I am anxious to find out if the results of your research in the Restricted Section support our suspicions about the diary and look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_Bill Weasley_

()()()()

_Dear Bill,_

_How are you? I got my new wand! Fourteen inches, willow and unicorn hair. It was loads of fun being chosen and it works better than Charlie's old one, too, even before I broke it. We met up with Harry and Hermione in Diagon Alley and Hermione's parents let her stay with us at the Leaky so we all went to King's Cross together. Harry had already been in London for weeks— he blew up his aunt! And without a wand, too. The Ministry had to puncture her and modify her memory and everything. It's really funny except for the part where she was talking rubbish about Harry's parents— I mean, isn't it enough that they're dead?_

_Hermione keeps asking me questions about Egypt. Loads and loads of questions that I'm sure even you don't know the answer to. Do you think I could have Amy's address so I could give it to her? I used to think Ginny talked a lot, but now I think Hermione is worse, especially if it's anything boring. Not that Egypt was boring— I had a great time! But you know what I mean. __Sometimes I remind her about homework just to get some peace and quiet._

_Ginny seems to be doing okay. I made sure to snub her on the train just like we had agreed on 'cause she didn't want me to treat her special in front of anyone else and she doesn't look as pale as last year. She's showing up for meals and lessons so I think she's getting around the castle okay. She's in the common room a lot more too. She and Colin Creevey are working on something now— Potions, I think._

_Harry's back from Quidditch practice— gotta go._

_Ron_

()()()()

_September 7, 1993_

_Dear Bill,_

_How are you? I hope you have your next assignment and are out in some fascinating new site right now. I know how much you hate desk duty, but we appreciated you staying in town for us._

_I wrote all the prefects and the Head Girl the week we got back, just as you suggested, and you were right— it did make the first meeting on the Hogwarts Express go more smoothly. The color- coded planner is great. September is already glowing with eleven different shades for all my various classes and responsibilities. I am certain you have heard about Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban by now. The school is surrounded by Dementors for extra security (although I don't think Professor Dumbledore likes that very much), and I have given strict instructions to every Prefect that anything out of order is to be reported to me or Catherine immediately._

_Ron is constantly with Harry and Hermione, as per usual, and so far they are staying out of trouble (although the year is young). Fred and George have been no worse than normal. __I am hopeful the pressures of O.W.L.s will limit their time for mischief- making. Then again, said pressure may only aggravate their proclivity for chaos._

_Ginny is doing well, although she runs in the opposite direction every time she spots me in the halls (even though I've been avoiding her just like you said). She is eating, and appears to be sleeping (of course, I can't verify this personally, but the female Gryffindor Prefects say they have not noticed her up and about at night), and isn't nearly as peaky. I even saw her flying this weekend— she's good. I wouldn't be surprised if she plays for Gryffindor once she grows up a bit, but right now a brisk wind would knock her off her broomstick._

_I still have an essay to finish for Flitwick and reading for Arithmancy, but I wanted to get a letter to you before my duties become overwhelming. Stay safe._

_Your brother,_

_Percy_

_P. S. Please thank Amy again for the movie. When I told Penelope that I had watched it this summer, she was thrilled (we were in the empty classroom next to that tapestry of trolls dancing ballet)._

()()()()

_Dear Bill,_

_Why didn't you tell us fifth year sucks? It's only the second week of school and already we have done more homework than all of last term. So far Percy is behaving himself, but Alicia says he is more obnoxious than ever in prefect meetings. Oliver is absolutely obsessed about winning the Quidditch Cup this year. We know we said that last year, but we were wrong. But it is great to be on the pitch again._

_We have done two essays EACH this week and are tired of writing, but we have been paying attention to Gin- Gin and we want the credit for it. Our sources tell us she has occasional nightmares but is able to go back to sleep, that every girl in her dormitory was impressed by her Egyptian necklace and silk pajamas, and that she can hold her own with Snape. She has had no detentions so far (we are hopeful this will change as the school year progresses), is smart enough to avoid Percy whenever possible (we might need to take lessons), and joined us, Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie for a rousing game of Exploding Snap two nights ago (and almost won)._

_Christmas is a mere three months and ten days away, and we think this level of diligence deserves a generous line of credit at Zonko's._

_Your favorite brothers,_

_Gred and Forge_

()()()()

_Dear Bill,_

_I hope my presumption is not offensive, but given the number of secrets that are being shared in these letters, strict letter- writing etiquette seems unnecessary. Please correct me if you disagree._

_My research has revealed nothing except that our suspected subject is not addressed in any of the Defense Against the Dark Arts texts in Hogwarts. Having both studied under Dumbledore and received a lengthy lecture on what I could and could not teach in my N.E.W.T. lessons this year, I am certain he has pulled any such books off the shelves, and I am not so foolish as to imagine myself a talented enough wizard to successfully break into Dumbledore's office. I am not even sure that he kept the books._

_So, that leaves us with no special instructions for assisting Ginny in her recovery other than what is generally recommended after exposure to dark magic, and I am certain you are already familiar with the list. Fresh air and sunlight, exercise, the company of friends and loved ones, and staying involved in favorite activities are the things that come immediately to mind. And unlimited amounts of chocolate, of course._

_For this reason, I know you will be delighted to hear I spotted Ginny by the lake yesterday afternoon trading Chocolate Frog cards with several other second years from not only Gryffindor, but also Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. I have yet to see her alone; during meals, before and after class, in and out of the castle, she is always in the presence of at least one or two others. Her most consistent companion is a fellow Gryffindor by the name of Colin Creevey, but don't worry. The boy is most definitely smitten, but Ginny has no idea._

_For various reasons, I rode the Hogwarts Express on September first, and although I fell asleep in an empty compartment, I woke up in one that also included Ron, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. __It was a most enlightening journey. __You may have already heard from your siblings that Dementors stopped and boarded the train not far outside Hogsmeade, searching for Sirius Black. Ginny came into the compartment when the train stopped, as well as another third- year Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom. Unsurprisingly, Ginny and Harry were the ones most seriously affected when a Dementor attempted to enter our compartment, and yes, I gave everyone chocolate. Fudge has pressured Dumbledore into stationing Dementors around the school boundaries, but Dumbledore has absolutely forbidden them to come onto the grounds, so they should not be a problem for Ginny._

_You were right. Your sister does have a talent for Defense, and Professor Flitwick tells me she is his best second- year student. I spoke with Ginny privately during the first week of school under the pretense of concern about her barely passing marks in several subjects last year. Of course, this required me to meet with all the second years who had the same marks, but that's not a bad thing. Ginny said she had been looking through her book in preparation for class (I believe Hermione has somewhat adopted the girl, and a more studious pupil I have rarely met), and there were some things she didn't remember. This is hardly surprising, not only because of her experiences last year, but because none of my second years seem to have learned any Defense at all. At any rate, she is doing very well so far, and I will continue to keep you informed._

_Remus_

()()()()

_September 18, 1993_

_Dear Bill,_

_How are you? I hope you have been finding loads of treasure. I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, but Mum kept us busy getting ready for school and now I'm finally settled in. We went to Diagon Alley nearly as soon as we got back, and guess who was there? Harry Potter! He blew up his aunt and ran away and the Ministry put him up at the Leaky Cauldron until school started. I wanted to sink through the floor when I saw him. He cut his hair over the summer, and he is SO CUTE! I thought I was going to have to stay in Mum and Dad's room, but Ron's friend Hermione was there, too, and Mum let me stay with her instead. We had met last year, of course, but we didn't really know each other. She _is_ a bit of a know- it- all, but she's all right. She was impressed when I cast Scarpin's Revelaspell on all my books (they're fine). I was really nervous about going back to Hogwarts and she offered to tutor me. She also knows lots of secret passageways from hanging round with the boys and she promised to show them to me, too, in case I ever need to get away from Filch. I think she fancies Ron, but I can't tell for certain yet. I'll keep you posted._

_Have you heard about Sirius Black? There are Dementors stationed all around the school in case he comes here, and they searched the Hogwarts Express, too. When the train stopped and the lights went out, I went looking for Ron, and that's where I was when a Dementor came into our compartment. It was awful, Bill. I felt cold and sick, and I kept hearing Tom telling me all those awful things, like when he came out of the diary last year. But it turns out Ron and everyone was sharing a compartment with our DADA professor, Professor Lupin, and he shot some silvery stuff at it and drove it away and gave us all chocolate. I'm giving Percy some of my birthday money to buy me some during the first Hogsmeade weekend. Now I have proof that chocolate makes you feel better!_

_You would like Professor Lupin. He is a much better teacher than Lockhart— Hmm, that's not quite the compliment I meant it to be. _Anyone_ would be a better teacher than Lockhart. But Lupin's really good! I've learned so much already, and his lessons are fun. I never have nightmares on the days I have DADA. Charms is my best subject, but I'm behind in Herbology, Transfiguration, and Astronomy (we won't talk about Potions. Snape is as slimy as ever). I don't remember anything about Astronomy except how to find the Big Dipper and the North Star, and I knew that before I came to Hogwarts. Hermione has loaned me all her notes and star charts from the last two years— all five zillion pages of them. She says I can catch up in Herbology by rereading the text, but I don't know about Transfiguration. Are you sure Professor McGonagall has a soft spot for Weasleys? I think you might have to be a boy to qualify. She always stumbles over my name, like she doesn't know how to pair "Miss" with "Weasley." Well, Colin and Libby have invited me to play Gobstones so I'm going now. Miss you!_

_Love, Ginny_

_P.S. Percy doesn't know I'm borrowing Hermes, so send him a letter, too, will you?_

Laughing, Bill folded the parchment and tucked it back in the envelope. Now _this_ sounded like his chatty, gregarious sister.

Mission accomplished.

_The End_

* * *

Well, there you have it. Thank you so much for reading; I could not have asked for a better response! Kudos to the four reviewers who have been with me since the very beginning: My Dear Professor McGonagall, Hermione's Harmony, Rosetta Wild, and Il'Diko. Chocolate Frogs to beta and NaNo cheerleader vancabreuniter and kankusan, respectively. Your support and encouragement has been invaluable.

There are deliberate grammatical/punctuation mistakes in some of the letters, especially Ginny's and Ron's. I hope you were able to tell who had written each one long before you saw their signature. And yes, Percy is referring to the Room of Requirement ;)

I usually have a new story ready to go when I finish one so that I can continue weekly updates, but real life has been kicking my butt-well, I was going to say "recently," but it's more like all year. I am working on a way-post-Hogwarts Auror-centered Harry/Ginny fic that is a sequel of sorts to "Sharing Life Together." At this point, I think it will be a trilogy posted in separate installments, but don't hold me to that. I would like to say it will be ready by Easter, but mid-April is a safer bet.

Once again, thank you so much for reading!

keeptheotherone


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